Moroccan Magnetism
by shipnation
Summary: Michonne and Rick are looking for something new and exciting. What happens when they find it? (Richonne-centric. Smutty Situations. AU)
1. Chapter 1

_**Imagine Richonne in a Rom Com...**_

* * *

 _""""Final call for Flight 957 to Agadir, Morocco. Boarding now at Gate 14.""""_

* * *

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit!" Michonne grumbled nervously under her breath as she did her best Florence Joyner impression navigating through Atlanta International Airport. Thanks to traffic and an unforeseen power outage at her home, she was running late for her flight. She reached her gate, just as the flight attendant was about to close the door.

"Wait, wait!" She cried out. The pink and gold duffle bag she carried, containing only her shoes, felt like a ton of bricks. The straps pressing tightly against her arm was sure to leave its red imprint. Michonne pulled her second carry on suitcase in her other hand and plodded to the entrance. One might say she went overboard with the packing for a two week vacation (she had another oversized suitcase in bag check), but it is better to be prepared than to wish you brought that extra dress, or four, for the impromptu night out with the hot Moroccan surfer.

"Cutting it close." The attendant said, reaching out for her boarding pass.

 _No shit_. Michonne thought to herself. She feigned a smile and replied, "Yeah."

The flight attendant scanned her ticket, "Enjoy your flight."

* * *

Michonne finally caught her breath as she walked through the gate and onto the plane. This was her first time traveling so far alone. It had been Andrea's idea to get her to sign up for an all-inclusive Singles Retreat, on the beautiful Northern coast of Africa. Encouraging her that she needed to get back out into the world, Michonne reluctantly agreed. Leaving her son in the capable and caring hands of her parents, she was now on the plane and ready. In a few hours bathing underneath the magnificent Moroccan sun. She viewed the boarding pass in her hand, Row 12, Seat C.

"Excuse me." Michonne piped as she maneuvered her way through the tight aisle, reading the numbers above the seats.

"9, 10, 11..." Coming to a stop, she dropped her shoe bag on the floor in front of her. There was a man sitting in Row 12, Seat C. "Excuse me, Sir." She spoke. He was busy thumbing through one of the airline magazines to even acknowledge her. "Excuse me, Sir!" She repeated louder this time, commanding his attention. He looked up at her and Michonne was taken aback at how attractive he was. He had electric blue eyes, a jaw chiseled by the gods, rich brown curls that framed his face in the most statuesque way. She softened her voice, "I believe you are sitting in my seat."

"I reckon I'm not." He answered, pulling out his boarding pass from the front seat pocket.

Not to be sidetracked by his creamy southern dialect, nor was she any longer stunned by his looks, Michonne set her hand to her hip, annoyed. Her feet hurt, her arms hurt, and she was 100% positive this was her seat. "Uh.." She started, "I reckon you are. It says right here on my boarding pass. 12C. Row 12, Seat C." She held it in front of his face so he could see she was indeed telling the truth.

The man scanned his pass, "Well, what does this day?" He asked passing it to Michonne.

 _Smartass._ She thought, taking it from his hand. Sure enough, his boarding pass too indicated that he belonged in 12C. The Airline double booked her seat. "Shit." She said out loud, passing the boarding pass back to the man. He gave her a half smile, then returned to his magazine. Michonne moved and scanned the plane for the nearest flight attendant. A male attendant caught her attention and walked over.

"May I help you ma'am?" He politely asked.

"Yes. It seems like the airline double booked my seat. I'm supposed to be in 12C, but as you can see, that assho _-_ , I mean, that _man_ over there is already sitting in it."

"Let me check ma'am." He said. "Hold tight." The attendant walked over to the man in her seat. Michonne could see the irritation in his face as he was forced to pull out his boarding pass again so the attendant could double check. After confirming it, the attendant held up a finger to Michonne, indicating for her to wait a moment, while he sorted it out. She hoped that there would be an extra seat on this flight. The retreat had a pretty fixed itinerary and she did not want to miss any of it. It was close to a 12 hour flight with an hour layover, if she had to wait for another plane she would essentially miss an entire day.

The flight attendant returned and escorted Michonne to the middle seat of the emergency exit row. Sitting beside her, in the aisle seat was a woman holding a young toddler. On the window side was an older man who was already snoring away. _Fucking Great._ Michonne began to stuff her carry-on bags into the overhead compartment. Her suitcase was no issue, but the duffle full of shoes proved to be a little more difficult. She worked up a bit of a sweat beating the bag down so it would fit. Her eyes drifted to the man who was in her rightful seat. He was staring right at her. _What the fuck is he looking at?_ She rolled her eyes and continued with the task at hand. Finally, she got her bag inside and closed the hatch. She situated herself in the middle seat, and though it was not ideal, Michonne was grateful she had made it.

"Hi, I'm Maggie." The young woman sitting next to her greeted extending her hand out. Michonne shook it cordially. "This here is Hershel Jr. We are on our way to meet up with his Daddy and our family in South Korea." She explained proudly.

Michonne smiled. That was a nice sentiment, though she was not thrilled about the idea of riding hours next to a toddler in emergency exit seating where she would not even be able to recline.

"You won't have to worry about him. He is well behaved, quiet just like his Daddy. It's the only reason why I was comfortable travelling this long way with him." Maggie assured. Michonne nodded in understanding. To be fair, she was pretty good with toddlers anyway, so maybe it won't be so bad. That was until an ungodly smell started to invade her nostrils.

Slyly bringing her hand to her nose she asked, "Do you need to change him? Before we take off?"

Maggie lifted the tiny boy, sniffing his backside, causing him to giggle. "No. I just changed him a little while ago, I think that's coming from..."

They both turned to look at the old man, snoring in the window seat. A ghost of a smile playing across his features.

Michonne leaned back into her seat, and put her headphones on. _Fucking Great_.

* * *

Rick wiped his forehead with the red kerchief hanging from his back pocket as he waited at Arrivals. The heat of Morocco was an already welcomed change to the humidity of King County, but he definitely was stocked and prepared with his SPF 30. He had been gifted with this all-expense paid trip by his best friend, Shane, in an effort to get him out of his doldrums. It was supposed to be a game changer as Shane so graciously put it, but he had only one condition. All Rick had to do was try. And try he shall.

He ventured to the area where the taxi's lined up waiting to catch a fare. Stretching out his arm, a small red car pulled up in front of him and popped its trunk. He turned to gather his luggage, one suitcase and a carry on, and when he looked back to put his belongings in the cab, the driver was lifting a different oversized suitcase into the car. He caught the glimpse of the back of woman's head as she hurriedly entered the backseat of the cab. Her dreadlocks flowing carelessly behind her. It was the woman from the plane.

* * *

"Thank you."

Michonne paid the driver 200 Moroccan Durham, as he sat her luggage on the sidewalk in front of the resort. She lifted her duffle across her shoulder and pulled her two suitcases behind her, making her way through the lobby and toward the front desk. It was a luxurious, Grand Hotel, the décor full of vibrant colors, white pillars three stories high. A magnificent waterfall spanned the left wall, where a Moroccan band was set up in front, playing traditional musical numbers as they greeted the guests. Michonne smiled as she passed them. The sweet sound of the reed flute, along with the light beat of the tbilat, created a soothing atmosphere throughout the lobby.

There were two good looking people smiling at the front desk, one man and one woman. Michonne started for the receptionist on the right, the young Moroccan woman, no more than twenty years old, but could pass for sixteen. She greeted her in the native tongue, then translated to English. "Welcome." She smiled, as Michonne walked up.

"Michonne Miller." Michonne happily announced, dropping her bags, giving her arms a rest.

"Glad to have you Ms. Miller." The young woman started work checking her in, while Michonne took in the intricate details of the décor around her.

"Grimes." A familiar southern drawl uttered, commanding Michonne's attention from the gold crown molding. She looked over her left shoulder and standing right next to her was airline asshole, checking in with the male receptionist. _You've got to be kidding me_ , she thought to herself. Turning her body away from him and her attention back to the young woman who was now working on coding the proper room keycard for her. Michonne willed her to move faster so she could get out of the lobby and up to her room, far away from airport prick, but the young woman seemed to be having some difficulty.

"One second, Ms. Miller. There seems to be something wrong with my computer." The woman informed her and proceeded to her male coworker that had been attending to airport jerk, to help fix the issue.

Michonne snuck a peek at the man who was standing next to her from the corner of her eye. He had an attractive profile, his nose extended out a bit, a solid chin, with a permanent pout, and the juiciest bottom lip she had ever seen. He was rocking quite a bit of scruff on his face that did well to accentuate his strong features. Feeling her gaze upon him, he looked in her direction and Michonne quickly averted her eyes away.

After fixing the issue, the receptionist returned. "Sorry about that." She apologized. Handing her a gift bag that contained a Moroccan candle and oils, she continued, "Inside is your itinerary. Your room number is 605, and the first singles mixer begins tonight at 9."

"Thank you." Michonne replied, grabbing her things, ready to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"The elevators are just down this hall on your right." She gestured. "Enjoy your stay."

Michonne gave her thanks again and made a beeline to the elevators. She pressed the call button and waited. Looking back at the front desk, she saw airline asshole receiving his keycard to his room. Tapping her brown sandal impatiently against the marble floor, she pressed the button again.

Finally the elevator doors opened for her and she stepped inside with her luggage, pressing the 6.

"Hold the door!"

That same southern accent yelling from the hall, Michonne pressed the glowing 6 with more urgency now. The doors started to close, but not before the man was able to shove his suitcase between the threshold, impeding the doors from shutting.

Rick stepped inside and gave Michonne a sharp stare. He looked at the call buttons then moved to the back of the elevator behind Michonne, out of her view.

"Guess you didn't hear me." He said when the doors shut.

"Sorry. My ears are still ringing from the incessant cries of a toddler." She returned, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

"You know Darlin', my name was on the ticket. It's not like I stole your seat...like you stole my cab." With her back to him, Rick took the opportunity to study her figure. She had skin tight jeans on, deliciously hugging the curves of her body. She had strong shoulders, the blades prominent in the purple racerback tank she wore.

She turned to look him in the eye and the sarcasm was not lost in her voice, "Oh I'm sorry. Was your name on that too?" She rolled her eyes and faced front again.

Rick chuckled and shook his head.

The elevator doors opened and Michonne got out first, following the signs to her room. She was acutely aware that airplane jerk was following the same route behind her, though purposely hanging a few steps back. She stopped when she reached 605 and he did as well.

"You've got to be kidding me..." She mumbled under her breath as he pulled out his keycard for room 604, directly across from her.

"Well I ain't jumping for joy here either, Darlin'." Rick returned.

Michonne dipped her keycard in the slot and entered her room, closing the door strongly behind her.

 _She'd be much prettier if she wasn't acting like a right bitch_. Rick mused to himself, now alone in the hall. He opened his door and entered his room.

* * *

The pictures on the website did not do the place justice. The room was painted a beautiful burnt orange, with an intricate mosaic of blues, oranges and golds that covered the floors and trimmed the walls. Fabric cascaded from the ceiling, hanging over the mainstay. A large King sized bed that rested dead center in the room, covered in pillows and blankets of purples, reds and golds, more than he would need most likely. Rick dropped his bags on the floor and continued to explore what would be his living quarters for the next two weeks. There was a 42" flat screen television that was mounted on the wall in front of the bed, behind the bed was an expansive arch-shaped mirror with gold trim. It was strategically placed where one could see all activities going on in the room, if all they did was care to look behind them. A mini bar by the tv, as well as an impressive sound system, the wardrobe, and a plush seating area at the end of the room capped everything off. It faced the one vast window that scaled the entire wall, allowing the natural light to pour in. A complimentary bottle of champagne sat on the coffee table chilling in an ice bucket. The bathroom was just as impressive, with a jacuzzi tub and shower, same decor throughout.

Rick sat on one of the plush cushions, popping the champagne open and pouring him a glass. He looked out the window. His view, the prodigious blue-green ocean. The coastline went on for miles with no end in sight. He sank further into the soft, comfortable seating and took a sip from his glass. "Thank you, Shane."

* * *

After relishing in the beauty of her room and unpacking her belongings, Michonne decided to take a 20 minute power nap to rest up for tonight's mixer seeing as how she got close to no sleep on the flight. When she woke up, she ordered dinner from the room service menu and showered. The massaging jets worked the kinks out in her muscles after sitting uncomfortably upright for hours on the plane. She dried herself off and skipped out on the robe, nakedly roaming freely about her room. Michonne connected her iPod to the speakers provided via bluetooth, and the angelic voice of Sade began to blare through the speakers.

Michonne made her way to the closet. Earlier she had hung up her clothes methodically, organized by color and type. It made it easier to make the best choices. She needed a good statement outfit for the first night in Morocco if she'd hoped to have any luck finding a guy tonight. She decided on a white mermaid style, beach maxi dress with a high slit design on both sides. It had a cut out design that allowed a tasteful amount of skin to show on the sides of her abdomen and a loose halter neckline, so she opted for no bra. It was Morocco after all.

She put her hair in a high ponytail, and completed her look with a pair of brown braided sandals and a gold arm cuff to match her gold stud earrings. Michonne took one final look in the mirror and grabbed her gold clutch that contained nothing but her keycard and some tictacs.

"Let's do this." She said to reflection, satisfied.

Michonne opened the door and suddenly remembered who was staying across from her. She looked through the peephole to make sure Mr. Airport Ass was not leaving his room as well because with the way it's been going, it would not have surprised her at all. When she was satisfied that the coast was clear, Michonne exited her room and headed for the beach bar to mingle with what she hoped would be a bunch of Idris Elba and Oscar Isaac doppelgangers.

* * *

Michonne had been sitting at the bar for an hour. The mixer was in full swing and she had yet to see one Idris Elba look alike. Instead everyone looked like a clone of Clint Howard in Apollo 13. She drained the last bit of her Sex on The Beach cocktail that she ordered ironically through the skinny black straw and waved the bartender back over. She would need something a bit stronger if she was going to make it through tonight. And it was only the first night.

People were already mingling together. Everyone seemingly in their natural habit as the music sounded through the speakers. Some were dancing, others were laughing, everyone seemed to already be paired up getting to know one another. Since it happened, Michonne had not been particularly good in social situations, that had always been Mike's thing.

"Can I get the strongest drink in your repertoire?" Michonne asked the bartender when he stopped in front of her, flashing his pearly whites that contrasted nicely with his bronze skin.

"Absolutely." He answered and went to work.

Michonne spun around on the stool, looking out into the beach trying to decide where she should start first when the bartender was done with her drink, or the small thought in the back of her mind, pushing her to take her drink to her room and channel surf Moroccan TV.

"2 Beers, Please."

That accent that's been plaguing her since she started this trip came from behind her. This time, Michonne elected to ignore it .

Another bartender placed two beers on the counter. Rick paused a moment and lingered. Instead of leaving with his brew, he leaned into Michonne's ear, his breath tickling her neck. "You know Darlin'," He cooed. "Maybe if you didn't look so angry someone would come over her and talk to you."

Michonne's scowl deepened. _How dare he? Invading her personal space?_ She swung her body around the stool and faced him. "It didn't stop you, unfortunately." She replied.

Smirking he grabbed his beers off the counter. "No. It didn't."

Her eyes followed him as he strolled away from the bar. His was bowlegged, but his walk was gracefully cool, Michonne hated to admit to herself. She watched as he passed one of the beers to a pretty, petite blonde woman who was waiting for him in some denim hot pants and a floral bathing suit top. _Figures that would be his type._

The bartender placed her drink on a napkin, "Be careful with that." He warned, giving her a wink. She took a sip through the straw and winced at the bold flavor as the liquid sweetly burned down her throat. She would definitely need to be careful. Michonne looked back at the airline jerk who obviously just said something charming to the woman. She was giggling like a school girl, and playfully slapping his arm. _Whatever_. Michonne thought, grabbing her clutch in one hand and picking up her drink in the other, she stood from the stool and smoothed out the wrinkles from her dress. She would not be going back to her room. She started making her way to the seating area around the fire pit on the sand, consciously she softened her face.

* * *

Michonne eyed an empty seat and made her way toward it when she was impeded by a rather large man.

"I was wondering when you were gonna get up from that bar." The deep voice said.

Michonne moved her eye line from his chest to his face. He was sporting a dashing smile, his white ivories glimmering against the firelight and his dimples bewitchingly highlighting his face through the salt and pepper beard.

"Hi, I'm Negan." He extended his hand for Michonne, and she obliged. "Michonne."

" _Mee_ -chonne." He enunciated. "I like that."

* * *

Rick was engaged in conversation with Jessie, a divorced mother of two, who traveled halfway around the world to find love again. At least that is how she put it. She was only a few years younger than he, an art school dropout who got pregnant, then stayed home to take care of her children. She was the kind of girl he would go for back home, the kind of girl he grew up with and known his entire life. They were getting along well, when a streak of flowing white fabric passing the corner of his eye caught his attention. Rick turned to see who it belonged to and sure enough it was the ebony beauty from the airplane. She was twirling in the middle of the dance floor, dancing to the sounds that blared through the speakers. A burly man with a slick back do, doing his best to keep up. Jessie was talking, but Rick was transfixed on how her body swayed rhythmically with the beat. Her ponytail of locs splaying outwardly as the man spun her around the dance floor. The scowl that he was starting to believe was permanently etched on her face was completely gone now. And just as he suspected, her smile was absolutely killer.

* * *

After meeting Negan, Michonne ended up staying for the entirety of the mixer. They spent the night chatting, drinking and dancing. Her first night not a complete bust as she originally thought it would be. Most of the people had retired for the night, and after saying her goodbyes to Negan and the group of people they were hanging with, a tipsy Michonne decided to head back herself.

She made her way through the resort lobby and to the elevators, only to find Airplane Cowboy waiting there, his focus on the floor number display.

Michonne ambled to the call button and pressed it, although it was already lit. She stood next to him waiting for the smart ass remark he had for her this time. None came. They remained in silence when the elevator bell rang, indicating it's arrival.

Rick was doing everything in his power to keep his cool demeanor. All-inclusive drinks were taking their toll on him as well. He had about four beers until he graduated to the stronger Cu Bocan and he did not trust himself to even say one word, so he just leaned against the elevator wall and gazed down at his feet. Rick could smell her in the elevator with him, even as she stood all the way on the other side. She smelled of sand and jasmine, his senses may have been dulled a bit, but that he was hyper aware of.

Michonne found that she was a little annoyed that he had not acknowledged her. Instead he was just standing there, by the elevator buttons, and had yet to press their floor. She moved over to where he was standing and let out an exasperated sigh, she pressed the 6, then stepping back to her side of the elevator.

Rick raised his head and realized he forgot to press the button. He looked at Michonne to give her an apologetic smile, but screwed up his face up when noticed her scowl had returned.

 _1..._

Michonne swept her ponytail to one side of her neck. She could feel his eyes on her and it made the temperature in the elevator feel ten degrees hotter. _Why wasn't he saying anything? Maybe she should say something._ Her eyes scanned everywhere in the elevator except his face in fear of what she would find there if she did.

 _2..._

Rick noticed a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her exposed neck and he felt a stirring inside him. Her skin glistened in the golden glow of the elevator light and it made his mouth water. She was looking straight ahead and he took the opportunity to feast his eyes on her body. The dress she wore was so flattering on her that he knew it would never look good on anyone else as it did on her. Her right leg was exposed through the slit. The curve of her brown thigh peeking against the white of the dress was a splendid glory. She was a tall drink of water in the middle of the Sahara and he was dying of thirst.

 _3..._

With her nerves betraying her, Michonne stole a peek at the man across the way. His eyes were trained on her, his face filled with a dark lust that stirred an arousal directly between her thighs, catching her off guard. The white button up shirt he wore was slightly open at the top, exposing the smallest amount of chest hair and Michonne began to wonder what it would feel like between her fingers. Biting her lip she shifted her body weight from one side to the other, causing a rich friction at her center.

 _4..._

The way she looked at him, he was aware of the movement her thighs made as they grazed against each other. The tension affecting her as much as it was affecting him. The jeans he was wearing getting tighter due to his thrill. He leaned forward off the wall, standing straighter.

 _5..._

She turned her body to face him, her chest heaving, the swell of her breast against the fabric of her dress calling him. The scowl gone, replaced with nervous anticipation, she watched as he came and stood in front of her. Mere inches away from her, his eyes bore into her, hers trained on his lips. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, he inhaled her scent.

 _6..._

The bell chimed and the doors to the elevator opened. The air conditioning on the floor provided a cool deliverance from the stifled heat of the elevator. Rick backed away from her and let Michonne exit the car first. Slowly, one slender leg at a time, Michonne purposefully walked down the hall to her room. She could feel him behind her, positive his eyes were trained on her ass. She turned to give a calculated look and sure enough they were. The hunger in his eyes had her core on fire. She was positive she did not like him, his self righteous attitude, but the electricity she felt in this hallway could not be ignored.

Rick's had both hands in his jean pockets as he hung back enjoying the view that was bestowed in front of him. The curve of her round cheeks salaciously bouncing underneath the white material, Rick wondered if she was wearing a thong. The way she moved, she had to be.

Finally they reached their rooms and Rick laboriously removed his eyes from where they had been glued, letting out a frustrated sigh in the process. His erection was uncomfortably pressing against his jeans when he heard her graceful voice behind him,

"So your room, or mine?"

* * *

 **A/N: Ah thanks for reading! I am neither comedic or romantic, but this baby evolved from a very funny dream I had of Richonne, so I thought I would write it out for you guys. It won't be like my other stories, little angst, and I have a pretty good idea of where I want it to go, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it. This is what I was listening too while writing, watch?v=mvRQtbqLPK8 . Take a quick listen to get an idea of the sounds and the styles of the setting. **

**Once again, thanks for your continued support. All comments and reviews are much appreciated! Love ya'll!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Heavy Smut Ahead.**

* * *

"Mine."

Without turning around to see her, Rick slipped his keycard into the slot, unlocking his hotel room. Michonne followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. He flicked on the light, but quickly, she switched it off again. Michonne preferred the dark, especially for what she was about to do.

"Have it your way then." Rick conceded, at last turning around to get a look at her. She shined, even in the dark.

Michonne, wasting no more time, moved forward and pressed her lips against his. It was not the typical first kiss full of uncertainty and doubt, she did not know him well enough or even at all for that matter so instead there was a confident assurance between the two. And despite them both functioning through the effects of alcohol, they were steady together, in perfect unison as their tongues entwined. Rick pushed himself against her, caressing her backside, pleasantly surprised at how firm, yet how soft she was in his hands. His fingers coursed through the space between her cheeks feeling all of her over the fabric of her dress. Michonne moaned when his middle finger slightly hit the edge of her womanhood.

Rick picked her up, his fingers still playing with the edge of her pussy through her dress as she wrapped her powerful legs around him, carrying her to his bed. Holding Michonne with one arm, he used his other to move the canopy fabric so he can sit, oblivious to how much he was impressing her with his strength. Straddling him now, she ground her pussy against his hard erection. Rick snaked his hands from her ass, up her back, pulling the skinny string that held the halter together. The top of the dress fell, exposing her braless chest. Rick licked the space between her breasts, detecting the slightest hint of salt from her sweat in the Moroccan heat. That jasmine he smelled in the elevator assailing his senses. Using both hands he cupped her breast together running his tongue over both of her hardened nipples.

"Mmm..." She moaned, grinding deeper into him.

He took her left breast into his mouth, sucking voraciously, flicking her nipple with his tongue. There was a popping sound when he removed it and using his fingers he rolled her nipple in his hand, just where he was feasting a moment ago. Rick took a second to look at Michonne's face. Her eyes were closed and her head tossed back in pleasure. It emboldened him to see just how smoothly he was able to erase that scowl on her face just by the graze of his hands against her skin. Registering that his mouth was no longer on her, Michonne opened her eyes and glowered at him. Instantaneously, Rick went to back work on her right breast this time, still kneading her left. He smiled within himself, the scowl would not be rid of so easily as he previously thought.

Rick bit gently on her nipple and Michonne felt herself about to become undone early. She swiftly separated herself from him, standing up to remove the rest of her garment. Rick sat further back into the bed, pushing the excess pillows and blankets to the floor and watched as she let the rest of the white material fall to the ground. Her skin glowing against the moonlight from the window, their only source of illumination.

 _God, She's gorgeous._

It was not a thong she wore. At least not the sort of thong Rick was accustomed to seeing, but it was a cheeky, sky blue laced underwear that contrasted perfectly with her dark brown skin tone.

"Turn around." He ordered in a breathy drawl, removing himself from his button down shirt. Becoming wetter by his command, Michonne complied.

The strong, smooth muscles of her back and the way they met her curvaceous ass before him mesmerized Rick as he hurriedly released his hard cock from it's denim prison. He tossed them to the side along with his shirt and leaned back into the bed, his eyes still glued to Michonne. She looked back at him as he stroked his dick through his boxers, the lust in his eyes as he examined her, turning her on like a faucet. "Fuck" He whispered when she bent down in the most seductive way, removing her panties, giving him a clear view of her dripping wet pussy.

Michonne turned back around to face him in all her naked glory. Walking to the edge of the bed, she tugged at his boxers, coaxing them off of him. Enticing him slowly, she crawled over his body. Rick's breath hitched when her center grazed the tip of his dick, and he sighed when she continued to advance up to his chest. Her sexy aroma filled his nostrils as her pussy was mere inches away from his face. She hovered above his face for a moment, waiting.

"Sit."

Goosebumps rose from skin at the resoluteness in his voice. She slowly lowered herself on to him. She rode his face, his tongue exploring her every fold as she grated against him. Michonne thought about how he 'stole' her seat on the plane and she bucked against him harder. "Yesss..." She remembered the perpetual cries of the little baby, and the shit smells from the older man she had to endure because of him and she pressed into him further. "Fucck..." His smart ass comments and his judgement stares since she got here, she pulled at his curls and fucked his face faster. "Shit! Yes!" She screamed.

Rick was bound to suffocate between her thighs if he did not make her cum soon, though it would have been a glorious way to go out. With both hands, he gripped at her ass cheeks, then pressing at the small of her back he lifted her up in the air so that she was sitting on his shoulders.

Letting out a loud moan, she gripped Rick's hair with all her might, partly so she did not fall off, and the other part to keep his mouth right where it was, sucking at her clit. "Uhh...fuu..." She moaned her passion about to explode, Rick nuzzled his nose in her pussy, luring her to the brink. "Cum for me." He drawled. And she did just that.

He laid Michonne down gently on the bed as she regained her composure. Stretching her arms out and rubbing her wet thighs together, already feeling strange without his face between them. Rick sat on the heels of his feet and watched her squirm in the after effects of her orgasm. He licked his lips then wiped his nose and mouth with the back of his hand. Her cum glistened in the moonlight on his beard. He gave her another few minutes to recover, her eyes closed, and her features soft in bliss, he began planting slow, gentle kisses across her skin. On her stomach, up her breasts and in the crook of her neck. His breath in her ear, he delicately commanded, "Open your legs, Darlin'."

She did so, and Rick lined himself at her entrance. Pressing the tip against her, coating himself with her juices, he entered her for a moment then withdrew. He chortled when her eyebrows furrowed in frustration by his teasing. "Come on!" She pleaded, ready to feel him inside her. For some reason it gave him great joy to have her at his mercy. All that attitude she was giving him earlier, and here she was imploring for his pleasure. He entered her again, then abruptly pulled out once more.

"What the hell?" Michonne groaned. "What's wrong?"

"Condom." He stated. "I forgot to put on a co-"

"You don't need a fucking condom." She chided, lifting her hips up against him to get another feel, fully recouped and ready now.

"You sure?" Rick asked, kissing at her neck. He did not need any unwanted surprises.

"Yes!" Michonne slapped at his shoulders. "Yes, yes! Come on!"

That was all the encouragement he needed. Rick pressed himself into Michonne, filling her to the hilt. Her eyes rolled closed at the sensation of him inside her. His movements increased gradually as he pumped in a steady rhythm. Michonne dug her fingers into his ass cheeks urging him further, deeper.

"Fuck.." Rick huffed as Michonne clinched her muscles around his throbbing cock. He was getting close. The only sound in the room was their ragged breaths and his balls slapping against her skin.

"Harder..." She encouraged, meeting his prods. Rick closed his eyes, beating harder against her pussy. "Yes...yessss..." She cried, urging him on. Rick covered her lips with his own. He would not last another second if she kept going the way she was. Michonne kissed him back. The intensity in his kiss journeyed straight to her center where she erupted once again.

"Uhmph." Rick grunted against her mouth. Using all his might, he tried to prolong the pleasure, but when her legs quivered beneath him creating that sweet vibration, Rick let go, spilling his seed inside her.

Rick rolled to his side. Their feet at the head of the bed, and their head at the foot of it, both Rick and Michonne splayed out, gazing up at the point where the canopy fabric met, both working on restoring their breaths to a normal pace.

After a while, Rick turned his head to face Michonne, and before he could even begin to confront what had just happened between them, her eyes were closed, along with the steady rise and fall of her breasts, she was fast asleep. Rick rolled over to the edge of the bed and picked up one of the extra blankets he'd thrown on the floor in the heat of their passion. He laid back next to her, covering both of their naked bodies, he closed his eyes and joined her in sleep.

* * *

Rick sensed he had more space than he remembered having when he fell asleep. He groaned as he slowly adjusted to the bright sunlight now filling his hotel room. _My head is killing me._ The whiskey always betrayed him the next morning. The sleek fabric of his sheets brushed against his hypersensitive skin as he moved to stretch his legs around. _I'm naked._ Rick's throat was dry and scratchy as he yawned himself awake. Licking his lips, he tasted her. _The woman from the airplane._ Rick turned his head to the side, where he last remembered laying next to her. She was standing now, her back turned to him, as she pulled her white dress over her sky blue thong that was back on her now.

"Hey." He croaked. His voice harsh from a night of drinking. Drinking, among other things.

 _Shit, he's awake._ "Hey." She answered, tying the halter top of her dress. She wanted to be out of the room before he woke up if only to avoid the awkward conversation. She could find a way to dodge him for two weeks, the hotel was a big place.

"What time is it?" He asked fluffing his pillow and laying on his side, watching her continue to get dressed.

"6:15"

"Breakfast is a 7." He informed.

Michonne began looking on the floor for one of her sandals. "Oh." She replied simply.

Rick rolled to the other side of the bed, reaching down, he picked up her sandal and passed it to her. "Do you want to go down together, or...?"

"Uhm..." Michonne said, tucking both of her sandals underneath her arm, "I'll just see you around, okay?"

Trying to mask his disappointment, "Okay." Rick said. _She regretted it._

"Okay." She smiled at him. _He's not pushing. Great. This was easier than I thought._ Grabbing her clutch in hand, She made her way to the door.

"Wait." Rick called.

 _Shit. He is pushing._ Michonne reluctantly turned around to see what he had to say.

"What's your name?" He asked. He wondered, but never found the right time to ask.

 _Oh. My Name._ "Michonne." She answered.

"Nice to meet you, Michonne. I'm Rick." He flashed her that dazzling southern smile, and for a second she contemplated jumping right back into the bed with him.

"I know, Rick." She grinned. "Your name was on the ticket, remember?"

"Right." He smiled and nodded, watching Michonne exit his room.

After the door slammed behind her, he leaned back into his pillow, "Huh." He chuckled out loud to his empty room.

"Again, Thank you Shane."

* * *

Michonne let the water cascade over her body. She could still sense his hands on her skin, his tongue on her body, his hard dick filling her up. She began to reminisce about the night she had. The way he moaned in her ear, his quiet commands that made her do exactly what he said no second thoughts about it. The way he kissed her like she was the only woman for him.

A loud bang created by her soap bar hitting the floor, pulled her out of her reverie.

"Shit!" She bent down to pick up the soap and continued to wash her body. "Get a grip, Michonne." She scolded herself.

It was not like she regretted what she had done. Not in the slightest, but it was something that she knew she would not do again. She came to Morocco to find a real connection, not fuck the first guy she found attractive. Even if he ate pussy like it was his last meal on earth. If that was the case she could do that at home. In Atlanta, where everyone did not look like Steve Buscemi.

 _Rick did not look like Steve Buscemi._

He didn't, but Michonne was not even sure how she felt about him. They did not start off on the same page to say the least. He was a pain in her ass for most of the day yesterday. Who is to say it would be any different when the lights came on? She also had to consider that if neither of them had been drinking, last night probably would have never happened. _Probably._ Michonne rinsed the soap from her body and turned the water off. Grabbing her towel she dried off and exited the shower, to make her way down to breakfast. She had two weeks here. No reason to put all her eggs in one basket.

* * *

Like every other part of the hotel, the dining room was just as lavish. Filled with lush green plants and florals at every corner, the room was a network of natural beauty. There was a large fountain that flourished at the center of the space tying it all together. The Moroccan music that played through the speakers gave the room a tranquil feel as workers busily set up the morning buffet. About fifty circular tables of six were arranged around the room. Each table made of a sturdy dark brown wood finish, the tops each consisting of its own unique mosaic pattern with seats to match. Running her fingers over one of the tables, Michonne took a moment to appreciate the make, deciding the first thing she would do when she returned home would be to find one just like it for her own dining room. There was also an outdoor area where a few more tables were lined outside.

It was only five past 7 and the room was still pretty empty save for a few people drinking their morning coffee. Michonne scanned the room quickly to see if Rick had come downstairs yet. There was a tinge of disappointment that she quickly buried away when she realized he hadn't. Making her way to the far wall where the buffet was set, she grabbed herself a plate.

Michonne walked toward an empty table, taking a seat and began to eat. Her breakfast was comprised of traditional Moroccan food, baghrir, fried eggs and olives, strawberry jam, goat cheese and bread. There was also, amlou, a Moroccan almond dip.

She was in the middle of her meal, reading over some of the activities available for the day when she was interrupted.

"Seat taken?"

Michonne looked up from her pamphlet to see Negan holding his plate of food, grinning down at her. After last night with Rick, she had all but forgotten the good time she had with Negan at the mixer before then. "Not at all." She smiled, motioning him to sit.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, taking a seat next to her.

The vision of Rick's face in between her thighs flashed in her mind. "Good." She answered, sipping her Moroccan tea. "Very good. And you?"

"Same." He replied and began to cut into his baghrir. _Yeah, I doubt it_. Michonne secretly thought to herself.

"Last night was fun, huh?" Negan stated, taking a fork full of food in his mouth.

 _You don't even know the half of it, buddy._ "It was." Michonne agreed, taking another sip of her tea.

It was only five minutes later when Rick appeared in the dining area and headed straight to the buffet table. Catching him from the corner of her eye as he entered, Michonne felt her heartbeat quicken in anticipation. She absently wiped around her mouth with her napkin and corrected her posture. Negan took notice.

* * *

After filling his plate, Rick looked around the room for a place to sit when he spotted her signature locs pulled up into a high bun. She was dining with that guy she spent all night dancing with at the mixer. He clenched his jaw tightly together at the sight of those two. _She's sitting with him this morning, but sitting on my face last night._ Rick chuckled to himself and his foolish insecurities, shaking his head, he strolled over to where Michonne sat. _Time to break up the party._

* * *

"Hey." Rick greeted when he reached the table where Michonne and Negan were having breakfast.

"Hey." She replied, flashing him her pearly whites. It was refreshing to not be received with that cold hard stare she was sporting all day yesterday that seemed to be only reserved for him. This was indeed better and Rick could not help but match her smile. Their eyes and smiles stayed connected with one another this way for an extended while until Negan broke the cord between the two.

"Hey." He asserted pulling the two out of their secret conversation.

"Oh, sorry!" Michonne said apologetically. "Negan, this is air-, erhm, Rick. Rick, Negan."

Negan extended his hand out, testifying his dominance, giving Rick a firm, hard, shake. "Pleasure."

"Likewise." Rick returned, not intimidated in the least. "Mind if I join you two?"

"Well-" Negan started dissent.

"Sure!" Michonne interjected. Scooting her chair closer to Negan, she made room for Rick to sit on the other side of her.

A disappointed Negan seconded, "Sure."

Rick took his seat at the table and Michonne went back to looking attentively at her activities pamphlet. The atmosphere at the table was a bit awkward, but she could not very well send Rick away to eat uncomfortably by himself. She crossed her legs creating a friction between her thighs. _No, I couldn't have sent him away._

"So how did you two meet?" Negan inquired breaking the silence. From what he knew, he was the first and only person to approach her last night. When she had time to met other men he had no idea.

Rick and Michonne both looked at each other with unsure expressions. "Uh..." Rick began. "She unjustly stole my cab here."

"Ha, What?" Michonne laughed incredulously. Rick tilted his head and grinned. Michonne turned to face Negan, who's expression was riddled with confusion. "Rick here," She started to explain, "STOLE..."

"It was my seat!" Rick blurted out.

She ignored his insertion and continued. "He stole my seat on the airplane. So I stole his cab when we landed."

Negan gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Eye for an eye, huh?" He stated, understanding that there was something else between the two of them. They seemed a bit chummy regardless of their inauspicious start.

"Exactly." Michonne agreed, shooting Rick a sideways smile.

* * *

"Rick!"

He looked up from his meal to the source that was calling his name.

"Hey Rick!" The blonde woman heading their way cheerfully waved.

"Hey Jessie." Rick greeted when she finally reached their table. She had an upbeat pep in her step for so early in the morning, but he was positive she did not have his kind of night.

"May I?" She asked, smiling brightly at him.

"Of course you may!" Negan promptly approved. Grabbing onto the leg of Michonne's chair he pulled her even closer to him so Jessie could squeeze in between Rick and Michonne. "I'm Negan."

Rick took a deep breath. _All these fucking chairs on the other side._ He saw exactly what Negan was doing. He claimed Michonne for himself and it was only the second day of the retreat. _Childish_. Rick stood up offering Jessie his seat, and took the one next to it. He glanced at Negan who had his arm hanging on the back of Michonne's chair now, smiling, clearly pleased with himself.

"Hi, I'm Jessie." The woman pleasantly introduced herself, situating herself at the table. She looked at their faces, her eyes landing on the woman next to her who she had yet to be acquainted.

"Michonne." She said amicably.

"Delighted to meet you, Michonne and Ne-?"

"Negan." The man reiterated.

"Right, Negan. I'm sorry!" She apologized. He waved her off, letting her know he was not offended at all. "Wonderful to meet you all. This place is beautiful, isn't it?"

Everyone nodded in agreement at her statement.

"Sure is." Negan spoke up. "But I have to say, the most beautiful thing I have seen since arriving in Morocco is sitting right here." He looked at Michonne, dimples on full display. Her skin starting to flush at his compliment. She stole a glance at Rick who wore the most unimpressed expression on his face, eyeing Negan. His attention shifted to her and he raised his eyebrows in quick succession, giving her a smug smile.

Michonne quickly turned away, smiling into her chest. _Shit. He's fucking adorable._

"Aw, that's so sweet. You two already seem to have found your connection here. This early too. I hope I could be so lucky." Jessie said, turning to look at Rick who was resting his head on his hand. He offered her a slight nod and tight lipped smile. Jessie's smiled back and started in on her breakfast. "So what do you all have planned for the day?"

Michonne fiddled with the activities pamphlet in her hand. "Well I definitely want to check out the Wellness Workshop."

"Funny," Negan started. "I was going to do the exact same thing!"

"Really?" Michonne did not peg him for the wellness type. _We have something in common. That's a good start._

That sliver of information awarded Negan with a bewildered look from Rick. _This guy is full of shit._ He thought to himself. "What do you do Negan?" Rick asked, taking a drink of his coffee. He was interested in knowing a little more background information on this guy. Something about him just rubbed him the wrong way.

"I'm a gym teacher."

Rick choked on his coffee.

"Oh!" Jessie yelped and attempted to pat him on his back. She grabbed her napkin and brought it to Rick's chin, where some of the liquid dribbled down. He looked up and saw Negan giving him a stern expression, Michonne wore one of confusion.

"Thanks." Rick said, taking the napkin from Jessie's hand and wiping off the spilled drink on his lap. "Gym teacher, that's great. High School?"

Negan ignored Rick's question and regarded Michonne, "I teach middle school kids in D.C." He explained. "All about staying active and healthy." Michonne nodded as Negan talked about his students. "I also coach ping pong."

Rick suddenly erupted into a fit of coughs. "Are you okay?" Michonne queried, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Just this fu-the coffee... continue, please." Rick cleared his throat once more and gave Negan his full attention. _Ping Pong? Seriously?_

Michonne skeptically turned her attention back to the man on her left.

"Yeah, well... we were state champions three years in a row." He finished. A bit red under the collar, Negan glared at Rick.

"Well," Michonne started, opening her pamphlet again. "They have yoga at 10, followed by a cooking class for lunch. I'm thinking of doing that." She passed the paper to Negan.

Taking it, he looked it over. "That's good because I love yoga." He boasted.

"Really?" She was sure he was just yanking her chain.

"Really." He playfully rubbed at her forearm with his thumb, laying on his most charming smile yet. Rick involuntarily rolled his eyes at the exchange, when Jessie tapped him on the thigh.

"That sounds like fun." She opined.

"What?" He inquired, pulling himself out of his daze.

"The yoga and cooking class. You wanna try it?" She questioned hopefully. Negan and Michonne were staring at them now, waiting for his answer. Judging by the look on the man's face, Rick knew he wanted him to decline and do something else. And suddenly there was nothing he wanted to do more.

"Sure. Let's do it." He smiled at Jessie, ignoring the exasperated sigh coming from Negan.

The young blonde woman clapped her hands. "Yay!" This is gonna be fun!"

* * *

Rick sat cross-legged on the blue yoga mat he grabbed from the basket in front of the room. He observed the people that were walking in, all looking like seasoned veterans. He was the first to arrive from the group from breakfast and was beginning to regret agreeing to this activity. A woman next to him cordially smiled his way, then began twisting her body in all manners of crazy contortions. Rick knew about as much about yoga as he did the Dalai Lama, which was absolutely nothing. He remember seeing they had horseback riding on the beach. That was something he could do, and not slip a disk while he was at it.

All his doubts and misgivings faded away when she walked into the room. She was wearing a pair of light gray yoga pants, and a purple yoga tank with the word NAMASTE written across the chest. Her hair was still up in a bun, glowing from the light sheen of sweat on her skin. He instinctively licked his lips as she made her way to him.

"Don't look at me like that." She smirked when she reached him.

"Like what?" Rick feigned ignorance, his eyes glued to her thighs. Remembering what it felt like between them.

"Like the way you're looking at me right now!" She pointed out. Michonne took a seat on the floor as well, sitting in front of Rick.

"What trouble can come from a simple look?" He responded coyly.

Holding back a laugh, "Stop." She requested and Rick playfully raised his hands in defeat, causing her to let out a tiny chuckle.

They held each other's gaze for a moment. Until Michonne decided to speak. "I think that we sho-"

She was interrupted once more by Negan. This time by his hands on her shoulders. Rick did not even see him enter the room being preoccupied with Michonne in front of him. He looked up and saw Jessie waving, standing behind the large man. "Surprised you made it." Negan jested toward Rick. "I was sure you were gonna flake out."

Rick stood from his position on the floor and met Negan at eye level. "And what made you think that?" He questioned, only a few inches separating the two.

Negan's grin grew wider. He grabbed Rick by the shoulders and shook him, letting out a hearty laugh. "This guy!" He said cheery. "I'm just joking with you man. I'm glad you came. And look, Jessie is right on time too." He pointed behind him. "Michonne," Negan called finally letting go of Rick, but not before giving him a hard slap on his back. "I got us a couple of spots up front."

"We'll talk later." Michonne promised to Rick and turned away.

I might have to beat his ass before this trip is over. Rick flexed his back muscles and watched Michonne walk over to Negan who was laying out their mats in front of the room.

"You ready for this?" Jessie asked, setting her mat next to Rick.

"Yeah." he simply replied.

* * *

 _I knew it._ Rick said to himself as he watched Negan in front of the room rock and wobble in an attempt to balance on one leg.

"I _looove_ yoga!" Rick mocked under his breath as he himself struggled with the tree pose. None of this was fun at all.

"Huh?" Jessie turned her head.

"Noth...nothing." He said, finally placing his foot down and giving up on the pose altogether.

Jessie quietly giggled at his expense. "Its harder than it looks." She twisted her face is fake exhaustion then smiled, causing Rick to laugh himself.

The class went on, the level of difficulty increasing with every pose. On some poses they worked alone, on others they worked in pairs. After a while Rick and Jessie stopped taking the poses seriously and just started to have fun. About thirty minutes into the class, Rick was actually starting to enjoy himself.

"Alright class," The instructor drawing their attention, "I want everyone to mix around a bit. Find a different partner than the one you have been working with, for the next phase of our class. We are here to share our minds, along with our bodies. Finding that connection that we all seek."

Jessie quickly paired up with another man and Rick was left alone scanning the room for another partner. Immediately his blue eyes fell on her brown ones, and he took a step forward.

* * *

"Really look into your partner's eyes. Clear your mind and find something there. Something you recognize. That basic earmark that connects us all as human beings. I want you to feel your partner without needing to touch them. Let us practice sharing our presence."

Michonne stared intently into Rick's eyes, as their instructor belted out all sorts of gibberish. They were sitting cross legged in front of each other. His face was serious as he stared back at her. It was not awkward like she figured it would be with any other person in this room, or if Rick had not fucked her brains out last night, but instead it was relaxed. She was relaxed. That was until his lip twitched. Their gazed disconnected only for a split second when Michonne witnessed his tongue sweep across his bottom lip. _Christ_. She tried to regain her focus to the task at hand. _Clear your mind, Michonne._ She internally willed herself.

"Invite your partner into your soul." The instructor encouraged as she paced around the room.

 _Ok, invite Rick into my soul. How the hell am I supposed to do that?_ She squinted her eyes trying to inspire Rick into her soul, but all she wanted to do was inspire his lips on her body. _Shit, Michonne._ She rocked on her seat on the floor, trying to alleviate the heat that was beginning to develop between her legs.

"Feel your partner!"

But she was feeling him. Feeling his strong hands lift her on his shoulders. His powerful grip on her ass. The way his lips puckered on her harden nipples. Michonne's eyebrows furrowed in distress.

"Find something!"

All she was finding was that Rick's stare was the same exact one he had last night when he was pounding inside her. Michonne let out a deep breath. She really was about to climax right here and now from just staring at Rick.

"I want you to picture yourself inside them...and them inside you."

 _What the fuck, Lady?_ Michonne bit her lip, and began to shake her legs, creating a slight bouncing motion against her yoga mat. Yoga was about clearing your mind, but now it was flooded with the image of Rick stroking his cock to her naked body. She continued to stare at Rick when she noticed the corner of his mouth begin to rise. Did he know what she was thinking? Did she say any of this stuff out loud? Just then she remembered she was wearing light gray yoga pants. Yoga pants that accentuated every curve of her body. Yoga pants made of thin fabric that was not the best at absorption. Yoga pants she sat cross legged in, that if you were sitting directly in front of her and decided to look between her thighs you could see... _Fuck._

Michonne closed both her eyes and her legs. Completely done with this dumb ass exercise.

* * *

When the class was over everyone returned their mats, some stayed around and mingled a bit, but Michonne wanted to leave quick, fast and in a hurry so she could shower and change out of her passion-filled panties.

"You ready to get cooking?" Negan asked as she dropped off her mat.

"Yeah, um... I'm just going to run back to my room and take a quick shower first. I'll meet you there." Negan nodded, giving her a wink before strolling off. She really wanted to give Negan a fair shot, but how could she do that when Rick had her creaming her panties on sight? _Get it together, Michonne._

She started making her way to the exit when she was stopped again. "Hey Michonne!"

She turned to find a smiling Jessie, her arm linked together with Rick's as he stood tall beside her. "This was just great, wasn't it? Did you have fun?"

Barely understanding the question, Michonne was rendered speechless at the sight of Rick and Jessie so close, attached arm in arm.

"Oh, I think Michonne had a whole _lot_ of fun in class today." Rick answered for her, emphasis on the lot.

Finding her voice again and rolling her eyes, she ignored his quip, speaking directly to Jessie, "I did. It was interesting to say the least. Unlike any yoga class I had before."

"I can only imagine." Rick added.

Michonne took a deep breath and continued. "Anyway, I'm heading to my room now to get changed for the cooking class. I'll see you there?"

"Oh yeah, about that." Jessie looked to Rick. "Me and Rick were thinking of skipping out on that. We had a fulfilling amount of the wellness stuff for the day. We were thinking of checking out some of the other activities. Maybe the sculpture workshop."

Michonne nodded. _Sculptures. Cute._ "I'll see you guys around then." She found herself annoyed now. Annoyed at Rick. Annoyed at how quickly she unraveled in front of him. Just annoyed.

"Definitely!" Jessie waved goodbye and tugged Rick along beside her.

He turned back around to Michonne, a haughty smile decorating his face as he walked away, "Catch ya later, Darlin'."

"Later." She replied. _Not too annoyed at him._

* * *

 **a/n: Ahh! Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments and reception of this fic. I hoped you enjoyed this update. Tell me what you think in the comment section! Love Ya!**


	3. Chapter 3

The cooking class took place at an outdoor pavilion. There were four long stations, each equipped with a stove top in the middle, as well as being stocked with all the necessary tools for cooking. There were two large mud ovens to the right of the area. The class was intimate and small, only eight people in total, two per station. Michonne and Negan took their place in the front of the class at Michonne's request so they would be able to observe their teacher clearly.

"First we need to slice and sauté our onions. Adding the spices as we go." The instructor demonstrated the step for the class to see.

Michonne peeled the skin off of her onion provided and began to cut it in thin slices.

"Like this?"

She glanced to her left to see Negan working on his own onion slices, a bit thicker than hers, but still good nonetheless.

"Yeah like that." She reassured him. Every person was provided with a skillet to heat and brown their onions. Michonne did so, and per instruction, added the fresh spices to her dish, paprika, coriander, ginger, cumin, white pepper, and others. The fragrance was rich and strong making Michonne's stomach rumble.

"Is this good?" Negan inquired once again to Michonne as he stirred around his onions in his own pan. Michonne looked at his work. "Looks good to me." His need for reassurance was a little bit adorable. She could tell he is used to being sure of himself, but the kitchen seemed to be throwing him off a bit.

After they added their chicken and onions into their tajine, they each put them in the ovens so they could cook.

Michonne and Negan grabbed some drinks, mint tea and a beer respectively, and took a seat on one of the lounge couches while they waited for their lunch to be ready.

Negan propped his left leg up on the couch so he could face Michonne. His left hand, playfully pulled at one of her locs hanging in front of her face. "So tell me about yourself."

 _Loaded question, much?_ "Well, I'm..." She traced the edge of her cup with her finger. "I'm much more interested in hearing about you."

"Oh yeah?" Negan perked up.

"Yeah, like why did you choose to come here?" Michonne took a sip of her refreshing drink.

"Just looking for a lady I suppose. They are all the same where I'm from. Not worth a damn. I need the right one. Someone who will keep me on my toes." He answered flashing her a toothy grin. "And you?"

"My friend, forced... well, more like pushed me to come." Andrea was pushy for sure, but would never force her to do anything she was truly uncomfortable with. A part of Michonne knew she needed this.

Negan inched his body closer to Michonne. "Well remind me to thank your friend later."

"So you plan on sticking around for later?"

He let out a hearty laugh. "Once I see something I want. I take it."

"Really?" Michonne queried with one eyebrow raised.

"Really."

 _Well that's not a red flag at all._ Michonne thought to herself. "Just so you know, I'm not easily taken."

"I like a challenge. Keeps things fun."

Michonne finished off her tea. "And who doesn't like fun?" Rising from the couch she walked over to chat with their cooking instructor, grinning as she walked away.

About a half hour later, the food finished cooking and the chicken tajine was ready to come out. All of the students went to their seats at the dining table that was set up for them and began digging into their lunch. Negan sat on the right side of Michonne and opened the top half of his tajine. Taking a bite of the chicken, his face screwed up in disgust.

"What's wrong?" Michonne asked, placing her napkin on her lap.

"This is way too salty." Negan replied taking a drink of his beer.

Michonne took her fork and tried hers. "Mine tastes delicious. How much salt did you use?"

"I don't know. I followed the instructions. The cumin, the ginger, the white pepper..."

Michonne laughed. "Which container of white pepper did you use?"

Negan got up to retrieve the pepper from his station, bringing it back to Michonne. She opened the small spice bowl and immediately knew it was not pepper. It was way too white. "Yeah, this is salt." She placed the bowl on the table and Negan returned to his seat beside her.

"Well I definitely can't eat this." He said, taking another swig of his beer, then with dimples on full display, he looked at Michonne. "Can I have half of yours?"

Michonne forced herself to not twist up her face. Yoga had her hungry, and the cooking made her hungrier, but she remained pleasant. "Sure."

Negan offered her another larger than life smile and placed his hand on the small of her back, moving his chair and himself closer to her and her tajine. "Care to feed me?"

Michonne laughed disbelievingly. "Don't push it." Picking up his fork, she passed it to him, so he could feed himself. "So," She began as she dug into her meal, "What got you into ping pong?"

* * *

Rick would not call himself an art and crafts type of guy. In fact his creativity began and ended with repainting the chipped fence around his home. So it was odd that he found himself thoroughly relaxed and enjoying his time in the sculpting class that Jessie convinced him to go to.

"...was metal sculpting."

Rick was busy molding his clay when Jessie threw a balled up piece of clay that bounced off his head.

 _What the hell?_ "Huh?" He looked toward his assailant.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" She smiled sweetly at him, moving the clay pieces back and forth between both of her hands.

"Sorry, I was...focused. Please, repeat." Rick put his project down and spun on his stool to give Jessie his full attention.

"That's okay." She said. "I was just saying that back before I met my ex-husband, I used to do all sorts of projects like this. My favorite was metal sculpting."

"Is that what you wanted to do before you had to drop out?"

"Well yeah. I had dreams of opening an art gallery. Sharing my work with the world. Maybe sell a couple of pieces for millions and buy an island." She jested.

"Everyday is a second chance." Rick mused, returning to his clay.

Jessie gave him a sincere smile. "You're right about that."

She continued to talk about a whole manner of things causing Rick to zone out once again. She was a nice girl, but he was sure that he knew almost everything about her life, from her morning skin care routine, to her kids issues with mathematics. If they kept going at this rate they would run out of things to talk about before his clay dried. And yet, he knew that probably wasn't true either because she would probably just move on and get into the ins and outs of her dog's depression. He was enjoying his time with Jessie, truly, but he found it most pleasurable when she would just take a second to breathe.

After sometime, Rick was satisfied with his sculpture, it was time to paint. _Black? Too depressing. Blue? That's nice, but I like the Orange too. Or maybe a bright yellow? Or Fire engine red? Make it real bold._ Rick signed at his indecision. He looked at Jessie who had finally stopped talking and was already on the paint for her sculpture. He did not want to get her going again. She would probably tell him the origins of each color and the part they played in the Renaissance. _Guess I'll go with them all._ He finally decided.

When Rick finished painting his sculpture, he viewed it with great pride. He made a mental note to investigate play-doh when he got back stateside. Picking up his masterpiece he brought it over to Jessie to see what she conjured up.

"An owl, huh?" It was pretty impressive. The woman had talent.

"Yeah! I'm pretty obsessed with them. They're beautiful creatures."

Rick nodded. "You know, I heard somewhere they symbolize death."

Jessie looked at Rick, a smile slowly creeping on her face. "Well, they also symbolize femininity and fertility."

"Well that's good then." He agreed. "Go with that."

Jessie chortled at his advice. "So what did you make?"

Rick placed his model on top of the table in front of her. Her face instantly morphing into confusion.

"What?" His expression mirroring hers.

Her features softened and her grin returned. "Well, what is it?"

"What do you mean, 'what is it'?" Rick blurted, feigning offense. "It's a cat!"

"A cat?" She began to laugh.

"Yes, a cat." _Obviously._ Now he found himself slowly starting to really get offended.

"A rainbow colored cat?"

Rick looked back at his work. "I couldn't decide on the color."

Jessie playfully grabbed at his arm. "It's okay. Your looks make up for what you lack in artistic skills."

"Yeah, well..." He bashfully rubbed at the back of his neck.

Jessie brushed up and down his bicep. "Let's clean up and get a bite to eat."

* * *

Following cooking class and lunch with Negan, Michonne decided to take some alone time and sunbathe on the beach. She drapping her towel, she took her place on one of the empty beach chairs that sat in the sand between the bar and the edge of the ocean. Taking out her sunscreen, she lathered her body to protect her skin from the UV Rays. _Should've had Negan around to get my back. Or even Rick._

Speaking of Negan and Rick, Michonne had a fine quandary. She liked Negan. He was funny, charming, although a bit brash, but nothing she could not handle. Their lunch together was nice, and getting to know the man behind the slick hair was interesting to say the least. Back in Atlanta she would have passed him over for sure. Then you had Rick who was smug, stole her seat, but dangerously handsome and ridiculously good in bed, but beyond that she did not know much about him. Michonne knew that the main thing she wanted after leaving this place is to find a real connection with someone. How far that would go, she did not know, but it would give her the confidence to start again. Truly start again. She could see the beginnings of something plausible with Negan, but there was something that kept pulling her back to Rick. _Dick, Michonne. It is his dick._ She shook her inappropriate thoughts away. "No, it has to be more than that." She reprimanded herself, dropping her shades down from the top of her head dozing off underneath the shining rays.

* * *

She was not sure how long she had been sleeping, but sensing a figure impeding her tanning session, she squinted one eye open to recognize the offender.

Her eyes traveled from his legs, up his thighs covered by black swim trunks, up his happy trail to his washboard abs. He was a skinny guy, but one of those strong, skinny guys. The ones that only weigh about a buck fifty, but can bench press twice their size. By the time Michonne's eyes traveled to his face, she was greeted by the lightest of blues and a face full of hair that culminated on the top of his head in an impressive man bun. He flashed his pearly whites through his thick brown beard, and had she been standing, her knees would have surely buckled. _Where the hell has this specimen been hiding?_ She thought to herself.

Finally he spoke, "The name is Paul Rovia, but everyone around here calls me Jesus."

"Jesus?"

"Wasn't my idea." He shrugged.

Michonne chuckled. "Good." _Because the Messiah complex was not cute at all no matter how luscious his hair is._ "So what can I do for you... Jesus?"

"Well," He smirked, "It's more like what I can do for you."

She sat up in her chair to listen to his pitch.

"I work here at the resort and offer combat classes. This week I'll be teaching Akeru. It's an afro-Brazilian martial art. Similar to that of Capoeira."

Michonne nodded familiar with the dance and fighting style.

Jesus continued, "I find most people enjoy taking part in these sort of classes. It's a workout, plus it's fun and a great way of meeting people. Which is why we're all here. Right?"

"Right." She agreed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Good." Jesus replied. "I'm going around the resort and to see if people would like to sign up for the class this Thursday. What say you?"

"I say it sounds like fun. Sign me up!" _Especially if I could see that body in action. I may be looking for a connection, but that connection starts with passing the eye test, and there is nothing wrong with looking._ Michonne flashed her most alluring smile.

"Great!" Jesus passed her a clipboard to sign her name.

"Michonne. That's a lovely name." He said taking the clipboard back.

"Thank you." She said, laying back on the beach chair. She shamelessly hiked up her right leg, giving him a splendid view of what she thought was her best feature. _YOLO._

Michonne reached in her bag for more sunscreen as Jesus began to walk away. Casually turning around to wave goodbye, he saw her flick up the top of her bottle. "Need some help with that?" He asked walking back.

"Yes!" _Ugh, Too eager._ "I mean, sure. If you don't mind."

"Not at all."

Jesus placed his clipboard on the empty beach chair next to hers and took the bottle from her hands. Squirting some of the lotion in his, he warmed the lotion in his palms. Michonne laid on her stomach to give him access to her back. "May I?" He asked before pulling the strings on her white bikini top.

"Sure."

His hands worked the lotion over her back. His fingers working expertly massaging the product into her skin. She closed her eyes taking delight in his ministrations. "So," She started to keep her mind and body from descending into improper depths, "How long have you worked here?"

"About five years." He answered. His hands moving up to massage the back of her neck.

 _This feels amazing._ "Oh wow."

"Yeah, me and my boyfriend met here about two years prior to that and we loved it so much, we stayed."

 _Boyfriend. Dammit. All the good ones._ "That's nice. I can see why. I'm loving it too."

"Mmm hmm." Jesus kneaded her upper arms then travelling the sides of her back, down to the cusp of her backside. He went on massaging her back for another ten minutes. Michonne almost dozed off once more, before he stopped his work. "Alright. I think I'm done here." He tied back her bikini top and stood up.

"Thank you." Michonne said carefully sitting upright, relaxed from her mini massage.

His eyes sparkled in the sun, "My pleasure. See you around, Michonne." He waved once more, grabbing his clipboard, he continued his journey down the beach.

She smiled as he left. It was good that he had a boyfriend, she was not sure how she could handle three. Laughing at her own hubris, she leaned back in her chair resuming her sunbathing.

* * *

Rick parted ways with Jessie after picking up some lunch from the buffet. He was now roaming around the premises, the only company, his rainbow cat sculpture in hand.

He came upon one of the game rooms in the hotel. It was empty at this time of day, most people out enjoying the sun. Rick walked inside, finding that it was modest. Definitely not as extravagant as everywhere else he had been so far. Only a few old school arcade machines lined the wall. Recognizing only one, Pacman. There were two billiard tables and one table tennis table. _Negan sure would be ecstatic._ He mused to himself. Rick moved about the room. When he satisfied his curiosity, he walked back toward the exit.

He only got one foot out the door when he was intercepted by Negan coming down the hall.

"Rick!" He shouted loudly. "Just the man I wanted to see!"

 _What fucking for?_ "What's up, Negan?" He sighed.

"Well you could at least pretend to be glad to see me." He chortled, reaching his arm across Rick's shoulder, giving him a small squeeze.

Rick pulled away. _I'm not._ He thought. Rick stared at Negan blankly waiting for him to tell him what he wanted.

Negan smiled, relishing in how uncomfortable he was making Rick at the moment. His eyes flashed down to the object in his hand. "What the fuck is that?" He said pointing at his sculpture.

Rick rolled his eyes and began to walk down the hall away from Negan.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Negan said running to catch up to him. "I did not mean to hurt your little fucking feelings."

 _I'm going to beat the shit out of this guy before this vacation is over._

"I just need to tell you one thing." Negan said, moving closer into Rick's personal space. "I know your game. Just don't get in my way. Michonne is mine."

Rick could not help but laugh at his ridiculous claim. "So this is all a game to you? You really think Michonne is the type of woman to be claimed?" _If anything, she does the claiming._ Rick's mind wandered to the way she claimed his body on hers.

Negan stepped closer to Rick, not amused. Only inches away from his face he grimaced. "You know what I mean."

"Nah. I don't." Rick sidestepped Negan and strolled down the hall, leaving him seething behind. He clearly had him threatened, but it was not a competition. Not in the slightest.

* * *

After his run in with Negan, Rick could use a drink. Strolling over to the beach and finding an empty seat at the bar, he placed his artwork down and ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Rick faced the ocean, looking out at the scene before him. There were a number of beautiful women in their bathing suits walking around taking advantage of the sun. Aesthetically pleasing of course, but none really catching his eye. The bartender placed his drink on the counter and Rick received it graciously before looking back out at the beach. After a moment he spotted her, but she was not alone. He took a hard sip of his drink, squinting his eyes as if to see clearer. _Now, who the hell is this guy?_

It was unmistakably Michonne in her white bikini bottoms lying on her stomach receiving a rub down from some shirtless boy. Rick clinched he jaw tighter and threw back the rest of his drink, signaling the bartender for another.

He stood by his previous sentiment, that it was not a competition at all. In fact, he was not even sure what it was about Michonne that peaked his interest anyway, but seeing her getting rubbed down by a pair of hands that were not his own made him uncomfortably jealous, no matter how he had her the night before.

The bartender brought back his second drink and he threw that one back quicker than the first.

"Who the hell wears their hair like that in the first place?" He mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" A nearby patron, who's hair was also styled in a questionable manner, was looking at him questionably.

"Uh. Nothing." Rick placed his empty glass back down on the bar. Bored of this scene, he resigned. There were other places on this resort in which he had not explored yet anyway.

* * *

Michonne had her fill of the sun for the day. Grabbing her towel she went to the bar to get a drink before retiring to her room for the night. After her wild night last night she figured she would take the evening to enjoy her living quarters.

Walking up to the counter, she ordered a margarita, when a rather odd sculpture caught her eye.

"This is just too damn gorgeous." She smiled. Running her fingers over the artwork.

"Take it." The bartender said as he shook her drink. "It's been sitting here for a while now, cramping the scene."

"Really? It's such a cute little rainbow kitty! I'll gladly take him."

With her towel draped over her shoulder, Michonne picked up the cat sculpture with one hand, her margarita with the other, and made her way back to her room.

* * *

The television was set on a Moroccan news station. Michonne did not know or understand the language, but she found herself engrossed in the action of what was going on around the country anyway. She popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth and lay on the bed comfortably watching the report on Moroccan textiles.

Her attention was usurped by the sound of footsteps in the hall outside of her room. Michonne quickly grabbed her television remote, turning off the TV, and hopped out of her bed to look through the peephole on her door. _Okay Michonne._ She internally pepped herself up. _You need to do this._

She brushed at her clothes. She was dressed very casually for a night in her room with nothing but a crop top and a pair of burgundy harem lounge pants on. _Well, I can't just walk out there, then he will know I was waiting for him._ She swiftly ran back into her room, jumping over her bed to the other side, grabbing her ice bucket she just refilled not an hour before. Running back to the bathroom, she dumped the ice into the sink then ran back to the door. Promptly gathering her wits, she opened her door, catching Rick, just as he slipped his keycard in its slot.

"Hey." She said as coolly as possible, hoping he could not tell she was just running around her room like a crazy person.

"Hey yourself." Rick opened his door then turned around to view Michonne. As he was beginning to suspect every time he viewed her, she looked more beautiful than the last. Intoxicatingly delectable, Rick involuntarily licked his lips at the sight of her bare midriff. After drinking in her body, his gaze reached her face and he smiled. "I like your hat."

"Hat?" _Oh shit._ Michonne had forgotten she was laying down wearing her obnoxious floral silk bonnet on her head to protect her hair. Promptly removing it, her dreads fell, framing her flushed face.

Rick softly chuckled in amusement.

Gripping her ice bucket closer to her body, Michonne shifted her weight to one side. "So, you missed a good lunch." She said, changing the subject.

"Hmmm." His eyes still roaming her features. Her eyes, her nose, her lips. "I should have went. My meal today... it wasn't quite satisfying. In fact, I think I'm still a bit hungry."

Her heartbeat quickened as he spoke. The way he was looking at her now was going to get her in trouble and that was not the reason why she came out here. But...

"You should find yourself something to eat." She purred. _Dammit, Michonne!_

Rick put his keycard back in his pocket and let his room door close behind him. Taking two steps across the hall, rapidly closing the gap between the two. "What do you suggest?" He drawled.

She took a step back and leaned on her room door, needing to create space between them again. She shifted the ice bucket from one hand to the other. "I...uhm, I'm glad I caught you out here." She ignored his question, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah?" Not letting her off the hook so easily, Rick took another step closer. His voice still gravelly. "Why is that?"

"I wanted to finish what I started to say in yoga class." He smelled so good this close to her. It was nothing special. He just smelled of man and beach. Michonne felt her thighs get slippery.

"Before of after...?" His mouth slowly morphing into a devious grin and she hated him in that moment. Hated him as much as she wanted to jump his bones right now, but she had to be strong. "What is it that you want to tell me, Michonne?" Rick's right hand slipped over the exposed skin of her tummy, sending chills down her spine, he left it there.

"I wanted to say that even though we had our thing, last night..."

"Our what?" He moved further into her, his mouth at her ear and his hand running from her side to the small of her back now.

Michonne gripped the ice bucket tighter. "Our rendezvous." She whispered in clarification. Rick's finger's traced the band of her pants, his breathing tickling her neck.

"Mmm hmm." He said urging her on, slipping his index finger between the band of her pants and her skin.

"We should keep..." Her breath hitched as Rick moved his entire hands into her pants now. His palm directly over her hot center. "We should keep..." She stammered dropping the ice bucket and her bonnet on the floor.

"We should keep what?" He whispered in her ear, giving her a light kiss on her neck as he slipped his hand under her panties. He bit his lips in instant gratification at how wet she was.

Panting, Michonne closed her eyes, enjoying the teasing of his fingers. "We should... uh... mmm... keep... our options..." Rick slipped his middle finger deep within her canal causing her to whimper in pleasure. She held on to his bicep as he pumped his finger in and out of her, using his thumb to tease her clit.

"What about our options?" He gently bit at the skin of her neck, then smiled into her skin taking great amusement in his control.

She hated this motherfucker so bad right now. It was a bad idea to come out here. To wait for him to return to his room alone. Thinking it would be any different because they were not drunk. Here she was posted up against her door while he fingered her when what she was supposed to be doing was telling him that this sort of stuff would not be happening again. _Tell him Michonne. Just tell him._ Turning her head to look him in the eye she finally got it out. "We should keep our options open."

Rick paused his movements to study her face. She was serious. Even with his hands down her pants she wanted to 'keep their options open.'

She thought he might be angry when he did not say anything for a while, but then a small smile began to form on his lips as he pumped his finger into her two more times before pulling it out.

"You're right." He responded. Her nectar glistening on his skinny finger in the light of the hall. "We _should_ keep our options open."

Turning away from her, back toward his room, he pulled out his keycard with the hand that had not been down her pants seconds ago and opened his door. "Besides," Rick brought his middle finger to his mouth and sucked. Tasting all her sweet honey. "I can't have you falling in love with me after the first night."

Rick turned to view Michonne one more time. "Goodnight, Darlin'."

Michonne watched as he shut his door behind him. "Goodnight." She said to the empty air. Picking up her bonnet and ice bucket, she walked to the ice machine down the hall, cursing herself along the way.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry for the wait. Good News, 'bout halfway done with the next chapter. Could have that up pretty soon. Thanks for reading. :-***_

* * *

The cold air circulating from the AC in his hotel room was a harsh contrast to the steamy warmth of the bathroom, causing goosebumps to immediately rise on his flesh as he crossed the threshold. Rick, after a much needed shower from the day's adventures, was towel drying his hair when three soft knocks sounded at his door.

 _That's her._ He smiled to himself. It could only be. _Options my ass._

There was no time to find a shirt, pants, or his boxers for that matter. The large blue bath towel that was hanging dangerously low on his hips would have to suffice, and Rick was extremely confident that it would, and then some. Tossing the smaller towel he was using for his hair on the floor of the bathroom, Rick padded coolly to the door and opened it, seeing that it was indeed Michonne standing there, looking as alluring as she had just those few moments earlier.

She had the same casual outfit on that he last seen her in, this time without the ice bucket accessory. He loved the way her waist looked so taut in the burgundy harem pants, and how the crop top had her ab muscles on full display. The lids of her eyes were heavy with lust as they stayed trained on his navel before slowly travelling upward to his face.

"Need something?" he drawled. A playful smile appearing as if he already knew what the answer would be.

Michonne pressed herself against his still damp body, entering his room. His skin radiating with the smell of the sandalwood soap bar he just used. The door shut loudly behind them both as Michonne traced her finger along the waist edge of his towel in the same teasing manner Rick had illustrated to her in the hallway so many minutes before. Slipping her index finger between the cloth and his skin, she tugged, allowing the impeding fabric to pool soundlessly at their feet.

It felt like a dream having her here in his room again, taking charge. The excitement sent chills down his spine. Rick inhaled sharply as Michonne wrapped her fingers around his now rigid cock, finally answering his question.

"This." She cooed, planting a soft kiss on his left pectoral muscle. Then doing the same to his right as she continued to stroke him in her hands. Her kisses traveled down from his chest to his navel until she was on her knees.

Rick swallowed hard as he beheld the woman kneeling before him. The precum glistened from the tip of his cock as Michonne lightly ran her fingers up and down his thighs. Her eyes were dangerously trained on him as she twirled her tongue on the head of his dick, tasting his emissions. The sight alone and the vision of the string of cum connecting with the tip of her tongue was almost enough to make him explode.

"Michonne..." He moaned helpless to her tantalization.

She continued to tease him. Kissing, licking, avoiding his shaft.

"Ah...mmm..." Rick bit his lip hard when her fingers traced from his thighs to his balls, beguiling him. "Please...Michonne."

"Tell me what you want Rick."

He did not think he could get any harder, but alas, just the sound of her voice had him wanting to climb the walls. She slid her tongue across the underside of his shaft and was quickly off him again.

"Please..." He begged. Rick knew he would not be able to take this torture any longer. He pushed his cock closer to her mouth, but she backed away. A devilish grin on her face, lips wet and thick, she stared him in the eyes.

"Just..." Michonne ran her lips over the left side of his cock, "Tell me."

Rick placed his hands at the side of her face, holding her steady, bringing her mouth down to the head of his dick. "Suck my-"

The shrill sound of a crowing rooster blared through the bedside alarm clock, jolting Rick awake from his slumber.

Blinking his eyes open, he looked around his now bright, sunshine-filled bedroom. Michonne was nowhere in sight. Rick looked down at the tent he was pitching in his bed sheets. _Shit_. He groaned, wiping his hands over his face. _It **had** all been a dream._

* * *

The light from the rays outside flooded into the hotel's dining room where Michonne sat with her morning coffee, reading her travel book, _Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits_. After her encounter with Rick in the hall last night, she tried to refocus on all the things she wanted out of this trip. A time to rediscover herself, to repair the damage left by the only man she had ever loved in her life. It was getting tougher to deny the pull she felt toward Rick. It took everything to not knock on his door and just have at it, but she had a plan and Rick was a distraction. His sex was a distraction.

Michonne raised her eyes from her book when she sensed someone heading in her direction. She could see the blonde ponytail swinging excitedly behind her as Jessie gleefully approached.

"Hey Michonne!" She greeted pleasantly, taking a place at the table.

"Hi Jessie." Michonne returned. She closed her book so not to rude, giving the young woman her full attention.

When seated, Jessie took the piece of bread from her plate and buttered it. "How was the cooking class, yesterday?"

"It was fun." Michonne admitted. "Delicious, actually."

"That's awesome!" She replied. Jessie was a bit too animated for such an early hour to Michonne, but she had been nothing but nice to her, so she tried not to let it bother her too much. "The sculpting class was fun, me and Rick had a great time."

Michonne nodded in response as Jessie began to work on her breakfast. She opened her book once more believing that to be the extent of their exchange. Of course, it wasn't.

Jessie stopped eating and regarded Michonne, "I really think he's the one, you know?" Michonne glanced up from her book at Jessie. "I mean, he is cute and kind, like I'm really glad I was like the first to sink my teeth into him." She barred her teeth at Michonne and laughed.

 _Not exactly._ Michonne thought to herself, giving her a sympathy chuckle.

"None of these other guys so far have grabbed my attention like Rick." Jessie continued.

All at once, Michonne's palms began to feel sweaty. _Poor girl_. Jessie was clueless about her and Rick's situation, if she could even call it that. _Maybe I should just tell her?_

"Those hands? The things I've imagined he could do to me!" Jessie wiggled her brows at Michonne.

 _Nope. Not gonna tell her._

Michonne pretended to listen to Jessie as she listed off all the wonderful things about Rick as if he was the second coming of Christ himself. I mean he was fine, nice when he wanted to be, and then there were his other endowments, but they've only been here a couple of days. No one really knew anybody.

"Michonne?" Jessie's voice noticeably tapered in excitement.

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you something?"

 _You just did._ Michonne closed her book for the second time, and finished off the contents in her coffee mug. "Sure."

"I know this is silly but, I've noticed the way you and Negan get along, how he fawns all over you and stuff. It's like he already owns you and-"

"No one owns me." Michonne interrupted.

"Right, I know." Jessie let out a nervous chuckle. "What I meant was, he is very hands on with his affections, open with you, letting you know how he feels, and well I was just wondering how can I get that with Rick? I mean there has to be something that you're doing..."

"Jessie..." Michonne sighs. "Rick is not Negan. You barely know him."

"I know but-"

"So then just relax. If you like Rick as much as you say you do, you wouldn't want him to act like Negan. Rick has an interest in you too obviously, since you guys are still hanging out together, so maybe just go with it."

Jessie nodded, seemingly having understood. "You're right, I'm being silly."

Michonne took her eyes off of Jessie and observed the subject of their conversation walking into the dining room. She gathered her book and her empty dishware and stood up.

"Oh, are you leaving?" Jessie asked at her sudden movements.

"Yeah, I'm going to go back to my room before the pool party this afternoon. You going?" Michonne asked, her eyes darting back to Rick who was beginning to fill his plate at the buffet.

"Yeah, I'm going to see if Rick wants to go." Jessie replied.

"Okay. So I'll see you later then." Michonne began to walk away from the table, but something made her stop and walk back. "Jessie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're at a singles retreat. Maybe shop around a little before you decide."

The young woman nodded, comprehending and Michonne made her way to the exit, not before locking eyes with Rick, who was on his way to the table where Jessie sat.

* * *

The pool area was already brimming with people by the time Rick arrived at the party. He headed to the bar to get his first drink of the day and compartmentalize his thoughts.

Rick looked at the signature drink list that sat on the pool bar counter. It had the standard Pina Coladas, Margaritas, and Daiquiris, then some other things he never heard of. He waved the bartender over.

"Excuse me, but what is a Blue Chi-Chi?"

"You never had a Chi-Chi? Delicious." Rick looked to see the person that had walked up behind him, answering his question. _Mr. Man Bun._ "It's the pina colada's hawaiian cousin. Vodka instead of rum. Not as sweet."

Rick nodded, then signaled to the bartender to bring him one. He went back to looking out into the pool area. Jessie said she would be coming down soon, but Rick was disappointed that Michonne was not there yet. He did not know if she would be attending, and the way she dashed out of breakfast he wasn't too sure that she would. He was a bit worried she might be avoiding him after last night. He's never been so forward with a woman before, but with Michonne he felt like a different man. He liked the way she challenged him, nothing was easy. Rick was busy in his thoughts that he did not notice Man Bun was still standing next to him, talking. "What was that?" He queried.

"I was introducing myself." The man responded. "Paul Rovia. Friends call me Jesus." He extended his hand out for Rick and he took it, giving him his firmest of handshakes. Rick eyed Jesus up and down, puffing his chest out just a bit. _Does this guy ever wear a shirt?_

The bartender returned to Rick with his drink. Vibrantly blue and fully equipped with a pink umbrella, silly straw and a piece of pineapple fruit hanging off the edge. Rick took a sip through the straw. _Chi-Chi's are delicious._ His attention fell back to Jesus who was still talking.

"I'm just here trying to find singles to sign up for my martial arts class. Its taking place tomorrow, right on the beach."

"Martial arts?"

"Yeah, it's a fun class. Rooted in African dance and fighting styles. The class is interactive and a great way to-"

Rick took the clipboard from Jesus' hand, not needing to hear anything else he had to say. He quickly scanned the names, his eyes looking only for one. _Michonne._ A few rows down another caught his eye as well. _Negan_. Rick rolled his eyes then regarded Jesus. "You got a pen?"

Rick added his name to the list then passed it back to the man. "So when do I get my massage?"

"Uhm..." Jesus looked at Rick quizzically.

"That's what you do right? People sign up, you give them a massage? Or am I not your type?" Rick took another sip of his drink, not taking his eyes off the man.

Jesus shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Next time, when it's less busy I suppose." With that he walked away confused and Rick ventured off to find a seat on the crowded pool deck and take part in the party.

* * *

Michonne considered her choices that lay out on the bed in front of her. She'd worn her white swimsuit already, so that one was out. Seeing as how it was an afternoon pool party, Michonne tossed her black suit to the side and opted for the fun sky blue, hollowed out bikini.

"Fun, but more importantly, sexy." Michonne said aloud, pleased with her choice. She put her lace crochet cover up over her body and with one final look in the mirror she was satisfied. The plan was to get to know some different people outside of Rick and Negan.

Michonne closed her room door behind her and made her way to the elevators. _Time to check out those options._

* * *

Rick was on his third Chi Chi. Shane would have his ass if he knew he was sipping on something called a Chi-Chi, but he may have just found his new favorite drink.

He was lounging in the back area of the pool where he met a large red headed man named Abraham. In just twenty minutes of talking with the guy he could tell he was genuinely funny, but also crass, which was nothing he was not used to, being best friends with Shane his entire life.

Abraham had a comment for every woman that passed in front of them. It was no wonder why he was sitting in the back with him watching instead of talking to one of the many women available, they'd probably knock him right back down on his ass.

"I wouldn't mind pouring the bisquick in that one there." He said pointing with his chin to someone across the way.

Rick followed Abraham's sight line to the other side of the pool.

"Excuse me." Rick said, removing himself from his seat to make his way over to the woman Abe had been staring at.

* * *

"...to which I said, 'No sir, that hams my biscuits.' The hair game, like I can tell you understand as well, is very important. Deserves the utmost respect. My superior, T. Brooks Ellis..."

Michonne blinked her eyes open, listening to Eugene go on about something she could barely follow. From hair to genomes, it was all very confounding and requiring every ounce of energy she had to just stay upright. She thanked her lucky stars that she brought out the dark tinted sunglasses which allowed her to sneak in some ten-second naps at every measure. Every time she tried to make an exit from the conversation, Eugene came up with some other science mumbo jumbo to share with her.

"It is quite plausible that one day the dead will rise and walk this here earth." He continued.

"Uh huh." Michonne yawned, embarrassingly covering her mouth. She did not want to be rude, but she may very well die here. She will literally be six feet in the ground bored to her death and there will be no rising.

Michonne closed her eyes for another one of her ten second naps when she felt another person's presence beside her, their shadow blocking out the sun followed by an obnoxious slurp of a straw.

Eugene stopped talking and Michonne opened her eyes to see Rick towering over her. A silly pink bendy straw hanging from his mouth.

"May I help you, sir?" Eugene queried, clearly a bit intimidated at Rick's arrival.

"Not really." He took the last finishing slurps of his drink. "Just needed to grab Michonne here."

"Oh. Very well then. Michonne, it's been a pleasure."

Rick watched Eugene scurry off, "He doesn't move his arms when he walks." He observed, before bring his concentration back on Michonne, who was wiping her eyes from under her sunglasses, supremely thankful to be done with that one way palaver. "That there one of those options you were telling me about last night then?" Rick asked, sarcastically sipping through his straw. There was definitely no Chi-Chi left.

Michonne took the empty glass away from him and sat it on a nearby table. "Why? Jealous are we?"

Rick chuckled. "What's to be jealous of? That's implyin' I am worried about losing somethan'."

"And aren't you worried about losing?" Michonne brushed her locs to the side and crossed her arms in front of her, exposing her long beautiful neck to him.

Rick licked his lips. "And that would be implyin' that this is a game."

"Isn't it?"

"It's a challenge, but not a game. I don't back down from challenges." Rick stepped in and closed the space between them.

"That's good to know."

Michonne felt the electricity between the two of them and Rick did too. Raising her arms, she slipped her crochet cover up over her head and off her body, tossing it over one of the nearby chairs. Freshly sidestepping Rick, Michonne sauntered to the opposite end of the pool, fully aware that Rick's eyes were properly trained on the movement of her cheeks in the tight bikini bottom.

 _Better turn around to make sure._

 _Yep._

A small smile began to develop on her face.

Breaking from his trance, he finally established where she was headed to. Negan stood in his abhorrent glory at the end of the pool wearing a pair of black speedos. Vainly smiling as Michonne made her approach.

 _Yuck. Damn tool if I ever saw one._ Rick clenched his jaw at the sight, then gazed down at his own swim trunks. He quickly and discreetly adjusted himself, and made his way back to the bar. _The things that woman does to me._

* * *

"Yes, Michonne!" Negan cried out after she knocked down her opponent for the umpteenth time. They had been playing a game of chicken fight in the pool for that past twenty minutes and none of these women have yet to knock Michonne down. She owed it to the yoga and weight training. Michonne laughed as Negan kneelt underwater so she could remove herself from his shoulders. They were having a good time. It had been so long since Michonne was able to have some genuine fun with people her own age. Back home it was just drinks at the bar or movie night with Andrea and Andre.

"I think I'm going to head out." Michonne told Negan. While she was enjoying the recreation, the water was tiring her out.

"Alright. I'm coming with." Negan said and they both made their way to the pool steps.

She coursed through the crowd back to the chair to retrieve her bathing suit coverup. Inadvertently, her eyes began to scan the area for Rick, and she quickly found him laughing at the bar with another red-headed man and Jessie, who must have entered the party some time while she was in the pool. Her arm was draped over Rick's shoulder as they laughed at one of his lame jokes, probably.

In all likelihood, feeling her gaze upon them, Jessie turned her head in time to see Michonne. Giving her a huge smile, she waved her over, but Michonne shook her head in gratitude and declined. Jessie really liked Rick and it wasn't lost on Michonne that whenever she and Rick were within 3 yards of each other there was some charged voltage there. She did not want Jessie to get caught in the crossfire.

Rick turned his head to see what Jessie was looking at just in time to see Negan come behind Michonne and wrap a towel around her shoulders. Rick rapidly turned away.

Negan spun Michonne around to face him, "So what are we doing after this? I hear there is a party off the resort later a bunch of people are going to."

Michonne stepped back and began to squeeze some of the water out of her hair. "Maybe. I'm probably going to just order some room service, read, and relax a bi—umpfh."

"Apologies, ma'am."

She looked to see who had bumped into her, but Negan had already pounced. "Watch where the fuck you're going!"

Michonne looked to see the man standing behind her alarmed. "It's okay, Eugene. No worries."

"Maybe that ridiculous fucking haircut is cutting off the blood flow to your brain!"

"Negan!?" Michonne eyed him incredulously, irritated by his rude quip.

"What?" He regarded Michonne with a cheeky smile, but it was not working on her. "Aw come on, I was joking!"

Michonne turned away from Negan, having no interest in being in his presence at the moment. She left him alone calling out her name, then the pool area altogether. She was done for the day.

* * *

After her exit from the pool party, Michonne spent the rest of the evening in her room until she was hungry and decided to step out for some dinner.

When she walked into the hall, she grabbed her plate and took her place in the buffet line. Coincidentally, Rick was already in the dining hall as well anchoring the end of the buffet line.

"Hey." She said as she took her place behind him.

"Hey." He returned taking a glimpse back at her. "You here alone?" Rick questioned, scooping some rice onto his plate then passing the spoon to Michonne.

"Yeah." She replied receiving the spoon from him. "You?"

"Yeah."

They finished getting their food and looked around the dining hall for a place to sit.

"Outside is nice." Michonne offered. Rick nodded and followed her lead as they headed to the outdoor eating area to find a table. It was dark outside, and the stars were on fully display. Each of the tables were illuminated with their own lattice candles, the flames casting a very romantic aura while providing enough light to see your food.

Rick and Michonne sat quietly together taking part in their meals. There was no charged energy between them in the moment. The silence was not awkward as neither had anything to say. They did not need to. The company was just enough to feel comfortable because neither was overthinking. They went their entire dinner this way. No words, just the sound of the ocean hitting the beach, the bustling hum of the buffet inside. It was a natural feeling for the both of them.

Once they were done with their dinner, Rick finally spoke. "Are you down for the night?"

"I don't know." Michonne answered. "Thirty minutes ago I would have said yes, but now I'm not even tired anymore." The outdoor area reminded her just how beautiful this place was, and she wanted to be out enjoying every minute of it.

Understanding where she was coming from, Rick continued, "I'm not tired either. Yesterday I went searching around this place. There are some hidden gems. Wanna check em out?"

"Sure." Michonne answered.

They both collected their dishes and headed out of the dining hall to continue their night and company together.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Kay, so this might have been a filler, but some thangs are going to be happening to Richonne in the upcoming chapters. More fun...and Negan. Thanks for reading. Please leave your thoughts in the comment section!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Its a Richonne Date!**

 ** _Hey All!_**

 ** _Thanks for all the kind messages on this fic. I love reading your comments and your enthusiasm on following this fun journey with our favorite couple. Do me a favor if you can before you read, go to youtube and search: Jilala I - Nocturnal Ritual. It is the music I used to inspire this chapter and hopefully as you read you too can feel transported into this world. As always thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

Rick led Michonne toward the east end of the resort grounds. Readily, she noticed just how much quieter it was on this side of the campus as opposed to the beach and pool areas where she had spend most of her time since arriving. The pair walked back out into the humid night, following along a short path to another building detached from the main hotel. There was a young man sitting at the front desk talking on the phone, not paying them much attention as they passed by. Rick continued, turning down the hall to his left when he stopped at a pair of traditional Moroccan carved wooden doors. Reaching for the iron ring latch, he held the door open for Michonne to walk through. The sight as she crossed through the entranceway quite literally took her breath away.

The doors opened to a lush green garden. Tall palm trees, vibrant leafy bushes, planters housing the smaller citrus and olive trees, flowers in their vibrant pink and blue hues, bloomed in their spaces. Expanding through the middle of the garden was a shallow pool reflecting the light of the moon, while small candles floated on its surface, creating the illusion of dazzling stars transplanted directly from the night sky to the middle of this garden oasis. The smooth sounds of Morocco softly reverberated throughout the space, speakers hidden within the foliage that surrounded them as Rick and Michonne made their way further into the horticultural haven. On the right side of the yard, surrounded by even more greenery was a small wine bar, where the attendant was wiping one of the glasses clean with the towel that hung across his shoulder. Only one patron sat at the bar with him, but judging by the uniform he was wearing, Michonne deduced he was one of the resort workers as well. The wine steward greeted them with a smile and a nod, then pointed to a space across the way. A seating area, enclosed by sheer royal purple and gold sparkle curtains. Rick walked over and held the curtain back for Michonne to enter the area. She sat on one of the large orange plush pillows that encircled a small fire pit, and Rick soon took his place beside her.

"This place is beautiful, Rick. How'd you find it?" Michonne asked when he was seated.

"By accident." He answered. "The other day I was at the beach when..." Rick wiped the sweat from his brow as he remembered what he saw on the beach before that caused him to leave so suddenly. _Freaking Jesus_. He shook away the green-eyed thoughts. "Anyway, I was just walking around aimlessly and stumbled on this place."

"I'm glad you did." Michonne offered as she took in more of their surroundings. She could not help but feel enraptured by the vibe of the setting and being alone with Rick. No matter how many ways she tried to trick herself out of it, there was something about him that kept calling to her. Whether it was purely lust or something else, she was not sure. As the steady beat of the drum pattered through the speakers and found its sync with the beat of her heart, Michonne was ready to uncover just what it was about Rick Grimes.

Rick too felt the anxious, but exciting energy between them as he watched Michonne take in their surroundings. When he thought about the circumstances of how they met and all that had transpired so quickly between them, it made him for the first time consider the idea of the universe actually working in mysterious ways, much to his benefit.

Lost in their own thoughts, neither heard the barkeep approach them. "Hey there! My name is Siddiq. Can I interest you two in some wine?" He pleasantly welcomed.

Rick looked to Michonne for her to answer first.

"Would you happen to have a wine list?" She asked.

The man produced a small oak card that had the list of wines available to them, and handed it over to Michonne. She quickly scanned her choices before deciding on the red.

"Malbec, please." She requested, passing the card along to Rick.

Rick surveyed the list in hand. He was a whiskey boy through and through, though he did have an new affinity for chi-chi's, the extent of his wine knowledge boiled down to two colors: Red and White. Rick stalled, studying the card until he came upon a word that even he was familiar with.

"I'll have the Chardonnay." Rick answered.

"Very well." The barkeep left them alone to go fetch their drinks.

Rick's attention was on Michonne as she absently played with the gold tassel at the corner of the pillow she sat on. He admired the way the soft flames from the fire pit glinted against her ebony skin. She really was a sight to behold. Michonne could feel his stare on her without needing to look up, so she continued to fiddle with the tassel, well aware of where that stare could and would most definitely lead them.

Siddiq returned with their glasses of wine and a plate of blue and black berries, and figs to share.

Rick gave his thanks to the man, taking one of the blueberries from the plate and popping it into his mouth. Michonne choosing a blackberry, keeping in theme with her choice of wine.

"So from what I gather," He began.

Michonne rotated her body and attention to Rick.

He tilted his head in minute insecurity then continued, "Based on our interactions, your high fashion, and of course your stubbornness, I'll take a guess that you must be some sort of hot-shot lawyer or business woman."

Her mouth was full of wine, as she moved her glass away, stifling a giggle. Swallowing the dry liquid, she countered, "First, you're way more stubborn than I am."

"I doubt that." Rick surmised.

Michonne playfully rolled her eyes. "Second, not a lawyer. Though I did study law."

Rick nodded. _Intuition still on point._ "So what is it that you do then?"

"Massage Therapist."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was not expecting that, though he wouldn't need to take a huge leap to imagine all the things those hands of hers could do. "How did you go from law to massage therapy?" He asked taking another sip of his wine.

"Well, my mother was a Professor of Law at Georgia State and my father was the district judge. So I guess you can say it was in my blood." She took one of the figs and bit into it, relishing in its sweetness. "The thing was, growing up with my parents I knew almost all there was to know about law, our great constitution, the inner and outer workings of our justice system, it lost it's allure for me. I was studying for hours, nights and days, missing out on living my life for something I was just not passionate about. Then massage therapy sort of just fell onto my lap."

"How so?" Rick asked, intrigued.

"I met a guy." Michonne's face turned hard for a moment, in deep thought. Her tone considerably lower. Rick waited for her to elaborate but she didn't, instead she softened and regarded him, "And you, then?"

Rick sat up straighter, "What about me?"

A small smile returning to her features."Well, my initial thought was, Cowboy."

"Cowboy?" Rick queried at what could have possibly given her that impression.

"The heavy accent," Michonne gazed at him knowingly. "The denim."

Rick glanced down at his black faded denim jeans. _They don't give me away that badly, do they? They were his favorite jeans._ He had thrown them on just to grab dinner. It was not like he was going anywhere fancy. Though, if he was being honest with himself, he would have just put on a better shirt than the white tee he was sporting at the moment. "What's wrong with denim?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Michonne laughed. "So you're not a cowboy then?"

"Only on the weekends." Rick joked. "I'm a Sheriff's Deputy."

"Ahh." She nodded, sipping her Malbec. "Makes sense."

"How so?"

"Do you really have to ask, with all that bravado you've been throwing around here?"

Rick feigned ignorance. "Bravado?"

Michonne pursed her lips. "You know exactly what I am talking about, Mr. 'I never back down from a challenge'.

"Darlin', that ain't bravado. That's confidence." He said matter of factly, causing Michonne to shift in her seat.

With most men, arrogance was a turn off for her, but with Rick it was different. The mild hubris roused something within her. A flame, igniting her desire to rise to the occasion and challenge it herself. The flame that caused her to sleep with him after the first night she met him. It was the flame that she was trying to keep under control before it spread through her like a wildfire. She took another sip of her wine. "So where is it you deputize, Mr. Officer?"

"King County. It's some miles out of the city, where I'm guessing you're from?"

Michonne acknowledged, "Downtown Atlanta, born and raised."

They finished off their drinks when Siddiq returned with two new full glasses. He collected the empty ones, and made his way back to the bar.

"Do you have any children?" Michonne asked, continuing her pursuit to get to know him better.

Rick raised two fingers and took a drink from his freshly poured Chardonnay.

"Two?" She smiled, for some odd reason, impressed that he looked so good for a father of two.

"Carl and Judith." He confirms. "Carl is going to be fifteen next month and my princess Judy just turned three."

"Three, huh?" Michonne mused. "That's a wonderful age. Most people don't like the toddler years, but for me, those were my favorite."

Rick was taken aback for a moment. "So you...?"

"One boy." She stated. Validating his inference. "Andre."

He did not peg her to be a mother, though in hindsight there was no reason not to. She was incredibly good-looking and put together, it made sense that she would be. "Andre..."

"Yeah, he's six now. A real firecracker." She enlightened. Rick laughed, picturing a small boy with the looks and temperament of his mother. He silently observed that her smile was all the more radiant at the mention of her son. It was something that he could admire, because he felt the same way when it came to his two.

"His father?" Rick sought, wondering what man would let a woman like Michonne go.

Her smile faded a bit as she minded him and his question. "That's a story for another time."

Understanding, he dropped the subject immediately, but not before Michonne followed up with one of her own. "What happened to your children's mother?"

Rick looked down at his glass of wine, tracing his finger over the brim, then back to Michonne. "She's... not here anymore." He replied, lifting his glass to swallow the rest of its contents.

Michonne studied the vacant expression that now graced his face. It was like he had been grafted out of the present. Stuck in a morose memory of the past. She could well recognize that whatever happened to the mother of his children was not pleasant, and still a sensitive subject. It was hard to explain, but it was as if she felt it herself. His lament eerily recognizable to her own. The sadness that decided to cut through their otherwise enjoyable night. She placed her hand gently on his, "Another time then?"

"Yeah." Rick sighed. Pulling his mind back from the black hole it was ready to tumble into. "Another time."

Michonne passed the plate of berries and figs closer to Rick, then stood up to signal Siddiq for another refill on their wine. She still had some left, but they both could definitely use another.

"So," Michonne commenced, grinning as she returned to her seat again,"Tell me more about the exciting life of a King County Deputy."

Rick chuckled grateful for the switch of the mood. Her smile was infectious and he already felt lighter. He slipped a handful of berries in his mouth as he began giving her the not so interesting rundown of his career and life in King County. Rick embarked on a tale of a small town deputy who spent his days driving his squad car around with his best friend, responding to the occasional domestic disturbance or vandalism at the local supermarket.

"That's it?" Michonne laughed. There had to be more to policing than that. Small town or not.

Rick chortled. "Well, I did get shot once."

"Shot!? Where? How?" With wide eyes, she waited for him to expound on this new revelation.

"Right here." He said lifting his shirt, revealing the scar on the left of his chest. "Got blindsided. We were trying to stop a couple of punks when they started shooting. First guy missed me, then another came out of nowhere and his lead was true. I was in a coma for two days."

Rick sucked in a breath of surprise when Michonne instinctively raised her hand to touch the mark on his chest. Her fingers were oddly cold, likely as a result of holding the cool wine glass in her hand.

She continued to trace the outline of the scar that was the only thing marring his otherwise perfect chest. She did not notice it when they had sex. There were a lot of things she was beginning to notice about Rick Grimes.

"Michonne?" Rick spoke softly pulling her out of her reflections.

"Sorry." She quickly apologized, embarrassed by her actions. "That's... some story."

Rick fixed he shirt back and as if the amusement on his face was any indication, he enjoyed seeing Michonne flustered the way she was because of him. Her hard persona undoubtedly just a front.

The conversation proceeded lightly and effortlessly, as the wine continued to flow. They traded stories of their past, sharing interests and hobbies. Rick confessed his love of Ronnie Dawson and 1950s rockabilly music, while Michonne demonstrated her expertise in the art of fencing. The two could not be further apart in their amusements and pleasures, but the passion in which they revealed more and more about themselves made the connection they felt all the more evident.

The music ceased and the floodlights powered on as time got away from Rick and Michonne. Siddiq made his way to where they sat. "Sorry friends, but it is 3am and the garden is closing."

Rick stood up first, stretching and shaking out his legs from sitting down so long. "No problem." He said, extending his arm out to help Michonne to her feet. She was rubbing her eyes, adjusting to the potent flare of the lights.

"Thanks for everything, Siddiq." She yawned, covering her mouth. _Too much wine makes Michonne a sleepy girl._ Together they must have drank three whole bottles of wine between them and now it was beginning to take its effect. Unlike when she drank vodka or tequila, where she would be jumping off the walls, wine was a sure fire way to get her to pass out somewhere in a corner.

Rick tired himself, placed his hand on the small of her back leading their way out of the garden and back to their rooms.

* * *

Rick and Michonne waited silently in the lobby for the elevator, when the ring sounded indicating its arrival. Rick stepped back allowing Michonne on first, then pressed the button to their respective floor.

She leaned on the left side wall with her arms folded and legs crossed out in front of her, staring at her feet, while Rick mimicked her position on the right. Both instantaneously aware of the tension that for some reason, these damn elevators in Morocco provided. Unable to keep her gaze off of him much longer, Michonne raised her eyes to contemplate Rick, who was staring back at her, a sly smirk on his face.

"What?" Michonne bemused.

"Just so you know, when we get off this elevator, I'm not going to let you have your way with me like you did last time." The smirk on his face now forming into a self satisfied grin.

 _This son of a bitch._ She laughed to herself. "As I recall, it was you who walked up to me." She reminded.

"Darlin', I don't recall." Rick denied, drowsily shaking his head.

"Of course you don't recall." Michonne quipped, "Like you don't remember stealing my seat on the plane, or sticking your hand down my pants in the hallway."

"No, I definitely remember my hand down your pants." Rick flashed her his pearly whites again when the door to the elevator opened on level 6.

"You know what I do recall?" Rick drawled holding his arm out, blocking the elevator door from closing on them and allowing Michonne to exit. "I remember letting you off the elevator first and then you had this walk."

Michonne passed him, and sauntered down the hall in the direction of their rooms. Knowing full well what walk he was talking about, she smiled to herself and switched her hips with more effort than she normally would.

Rick sighed and rubbed his fingers through his hair as his eyes were glued on the way Michonne swayed in front of him. He was tired, but she was awaking parts of him that would soon be calling for attention.

They were only a few paces away from their room when Michonne abruptly stopped, causing Rick to crash right into her. His strong arm quickly slipping around her waist as he braced himself to prevent the both of them from falling forward.

"Heavy on the juice tonight, Rick?" A deep voiced bellowed.

Rick moaned at the recognizable speech and looked up to find the reason for Michonne's sudden halt.

"It is three in the morning, Negan. Why are you here?" Rick queried, unwrapping his arm from Michonne so they can both stand up straight.

"Not that it is any of your fucking business," Negan began, "But, I just came from a party. Thought I would come and check on Michonne, seeing as how we did not part on the best of terms."

"You decided to come see her at 3 in the morning?" Rick looked at Negan incredulously. _What kind of creep does that?_

Negan ignored Rick and turned his attention back to Michonne who was moving to open the door to her room.

"I hoped to apologize to you about what happened at the pool party." Negan explained gently, taking the hand that had her key in it, preventing her from opening her door.

Rick stood up taller at the sight of Negan touching Michonne, but relaxed a bit when she pulled her hand away.

"It's late, Negan." She informed.

"More like, it's three in the fucking morning." Rick interjected into the conversation. Michonne shot Rick a playful warning look, while Negan looked like he wanted to bash his brains in with a baseball bat.

"I'm going to bed." She finished, dipping her keycard into its slot.

Negan swallowed hard at the rejection, but maintained his composure and moved his body so she could open her door. "We'll talk tomorrow then?"

She pushed her door open then turned to view the man with the slick black hair. "Tomorrow." She agreed, then switched her consideration to Rick. "Goodnight gentleman." Rick granted her a small smile and nod and she closed her door, retiring for the night.

With Michonne gone, Negan brought his focus back to Rick, who was unlocking his own room now.

"You're staying across from her?" He growled to his back.

"That what it looks like?" Rick yawned, tired from the night he spent with Michonne, and since Negan definitively destroyed any chance of his night being extended with Michonne, he was ready to hit the most comfortable bed he has ever slept in.

Negan stepped in closer to Rick. "I know what the fuck it looks like."

Rick chuckling, opened his door, unable to wipe the smirk off of his face.

"Don't forget what I told you, boy." Negan warned once more.

"Funny," Rick smiled, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "Michonne and I were just talking about my lapses in memory."

"I'm gon-"

"Goodnight, Negan." Rick sounded, cutting him off and slamming the door in his face.

"Fucking, fuckity, fuck. I hate that fucker." Negan snarled to himself as he stalked to the elevators. Indeed thinking of a way he could soon knock Rick down to his knees.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Up next: Fighting with Jesus. Thanks for reading! Be sure to leave a comment below!_**

 ** _:)_**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Been gone for a minute now I'm back with the Jump Off..._**

 ** _Yikes that was bad. lol._**

 ** _Anyway, here you are, an update for one of my more popular fics. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading, and if you are here after months of waiting thank you some more. I truly apologize for the wait, I mean if I could give you all apology hugs I would. So here is a collective one ＼(^o^)／_**

 ** _This chapter is a bit of a necessity, but I still hope you get some enjoyment out of it. So now on with it._**

 ** _Last time you were here, Rick and Michonne had a little garden date..._**

* * *

It was only a small stairway from the men's locker room to the martial arts studio where the Akeru class he signed up for was set to start. Rick actually was looking forward to this class, but not to learn a new skill set, but to be around Michonne again. Their night was cut short by Negan's unwelcomed appearance, but he looked forward to continuing what they had started yesterday in the garden.

Rick walked into the studio, it was pretty empty so far save for a few people filing in from the women's locker room across the way. Jesus, who stood talking to a couple in the front area of the room lined by large wall mirrors, waved, greeting people as they entered the class.

 _Apparently still allergic to t-shirts, I see_.

"Rick." The young man called him over. "Glad you could make it."

With a confident nod he replied, "There is no other place I would rather be."

A timid smile formed across his face, as he folded his muscular arms across his chest. "Have you done any sort of martial arts like this before? Judo? Karate? Capoeira?"

 _No, but I'm not about to tell you that._

Puffing his chest out, Rick mimicked Jesus' stance. "Nothing like this. I was a part of the wrestling team back in junior high school, but that was a long time ago."

"Indeed." Jesus smiled. He observed Rick, his eyes sizing him up, from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. "So you're pretty athletic then?"

 _Why the hell is he looking at me like that?_ "I can hold my own." Rick replied, headstrong. He was not about to let this kid think he can show him up, not today and especially not in front of Michonne. Rick looked over his shoulder toward the ladies locker room. _Where is she?_

He turned his attentions back on the instructor.

Jesus laughed and nodded his head, "Alright Rick." Laughing some more he continued, "Just hang around, class will begin momentarily, then we will see just how much of your own you can actually hold."

"I look forward to it."

Rick traversed the room to the left wall, it was the perfect vantage point to see who was entering from the women's locker room without seeming too desperate. He began to mull over the night before.

 _Fucking Negan._ Michonne really had to tell him to get lost at this point. The fact that he was even an option for her was mind boggling. He was sure he would be a pain in his ass in the class today. Rick shook the unpleasant thoughts of Negan out his head and began stretching his muscles, just to have something to do. Also, it would be best if he didn't pull his hammy or anything. He peeked at women's door from the corner of his eye.

 _No Michonne._

Rick was in the middle of shoulder stretches when he was interrupted by a monotonous but familiar voice.

"Contrary to popular belief, stretching before a strenuous workout does not do much to prevent injury." Rick turned around to see the man with the awful 80s style mullet Michonne had been talking to at the pool party standing behind him. He took a large bite out of something Rick could only make out as some sort of breakfast bar.

"Eugene, right?" Rick questioned, continuing with his warm up despite the man's assertion.

"That would be correct, Sir."

Rick's stopped what he was doing and turned his gaze on the man's potbelly stomach, "You do a lot of physical activity, Eugene?"

Eugene looked at the snack in his hand. "No. I'm just here to look at the beautiful women. That's why I came on this trip, beautiful women. In an ideal world, one would show a genuine interest in talking to me, but I am not betting any pennies on it. Just being able to view them will suffice."

Rick nodded and stopped what he was doing, almost feeling bad for the guy. Almost, if he wasn't so dang creepy. "Well the day is still very young, maybe go over there next to those ladies and do some... stretching."

Eugene contemplated for a moment then decided to take Rick's advice. Finishing up his snack in one bite he moved to the opposite wall and began to awkwardly imitate Rick's stretching. Giving him a thumbs up, Rick continued with his own work.

Having finished up stretching every body part he could, He stole a glance back toward the locker room door and at that exact moment, Jessie was stepping out.

Rick took a deep breath. _I had no idea she would be here_.

Her eyes quickly found his and her smile instantly lit up. Waving at Rick she made her way over to him. Taking a deep breath, he smiled back.

"Morning! Didn't see you at breakfast today." She noted, bringing her hair into a ponytail on the top of her head.

"Yeah, decided to skip it. Just had coffee in my room instead."

"Cool." She acknowledged, "So how was your night?"

A toothy grin began to form on his face as the vision of Michonne laughing and smiling with him in the garden under the night sky came back to memory. Getting to know more about her was exciting and fun and he could not wait to continue. _If she'd ever get here._ He chuckled to himself as he remembered their back and forth in the elevator before...

 _Fucking Negan._

"What's so funny?"

Jesse's voice pulled him from his reflections.

"Oh nothing. My evening was good, real good." He finally answered.

"I can tell by that smile on your face. What did you do?"

"Uh, I-"

Jesus walked into the middle of the room to address the class.

"Everybody, if you can line up against the walls and clear the middle of the room, we are set to begin shortly. Once we begin, the doors are shut and no one else will be able to reenter to prevent unnecessary interruptions, so make sure you do what you need to do now. I'm just going to wait a few more minutes for the rest of our stragglers to arrive."

 _Where the hell is Michonne?_

Rick was growing impatient, or just his spirited longing. He knew he should have waited for her this morning to see if she wanted to walk down together but the thought of looking too eager stopped him.

Jessie was quietly standing next to him and if he thought she was going to drop the twenty one questions, it was quickly short lived.

"So what were you saying you did last night?" She resumed the conversation. "After the pool party? A bunch of us were going to the place off resort, but..."

"I just spent time here. Enjoying the grounds." He said quickly to the point hoping that would suffice.

"Oh nice! By yourself?"

Rick sighed. "Well, No. I..."

Eugene came trotting forward from across the room just in time to suspend his unwanted conversation with Jessie. "I tried your moves, Sir and I must say they did not work at all. The ladies seem to be adverse to my... stretching. Which I can only assume is because I do not have the physique of a gruff country man like yourself."

 _Or, its the hair_. Rick thought.

Chuckling, Rick inquired, "Did you talk to them or just stare?"

"I said 'Hello'."

"Well that's start" Jessie added, inserting herself into the conversation.

Rick nodded in agreement.

At the corner of his eye he saw the women's locker room door open, and his heart sped up faster. He just had a feeling it would be her even before she walked through the door. Mindful of the expression on his face, he watched Michonne enter into the studio. Her hair was pulled up and she was wearing a black workout jumpsuit that hugged her curves perfectly to Rick's delight and to his dismay as he used his hands to cover the front of his shorts. The cross pattern at the back of her suit displayed her strong shoulders and back muscles perfectly. She was absolutely stunning. It was like slow motion the way she turned her head to meet his eye. A small wave from her acknowledging his presence before checking in with Jesus.

 _Damn Jesus._

Their instructor and all his luscious hair gave Michonne just a little too long of a hug for his liking, but it would not matter for long. When he told her to take a spot along the wall, she began heading his way. For a split second of horror Rick thought Michonne was going to walk to the opposite wall, but if that ever was an option Jessie made sure it wasn't.

"Hey Michonne!" She called out jubilantly waving her over to where they were congregated.

Michonne smiled and sauntered over. Her almond shaped eyes stayed on Rick even though there was two other people in the vicinity.

"Hey Jessie." She finally recognized when she reached.

"Michonne." The timid man spoke up.

"Hey Eugene. How's it going? You look flustered."

"We were trying to give him a bit of a confidence boost to talk to some of the women here." Rick informed her of what they were doing before her arrival.

"Is that right?" Michonne looked at Rick then back to Eugene.

"So we 're going to begin to form a circle in the middle of the room but before we do, everyone should choose a sparing partner for later in the class, and then we can get started."

"There you go Eugene!" Michonne burst. "That's your opening. How about you ask Jessie here to be your sparring partner for the class!"

"Oh!" Jessie, caught off guard by the suggestion. "I thought I would..."

"Jessie, if it pleases you, would you like to join me today as my sparring partner for class?" Eugene bashfully queried.

She looked at Rick to see if he would intervene but all she received was an encouraging grin, one that matched Michonne's almost perfectly, who's bright idea this all was.

"Jessica?" Eugene said commanding her attention once more.

"I'd love to, Eugene." She caved. Placing her arm on Rick's bicep she uttered, "I'll talk to you later."

She turned to view Rick once more, a tight smile drawn on her face as Eugene led her away and into the circle for the start of class. Rick gave her a thumbs up then turned to the woman he was not so patiently waiting for to arrive.

"I guess you're stuck with me." Rick playfully stated.

"Unfortunately." Michonne sarcastically replied. "What was I thinking? Eugene definitely would have been a better partner."

The both laughed and took their places in the circle as well.

* * *

Jesus began the class by introducing and explaining some of the different African martial arts practiced in Morocco and all over the world. He explained a brief history and soon after commenced demonstrating some basic moves to the class.

Unlike yoga, Rick was very in tune and interested in the different moves that Jesus was teaching. With the bravado that he displayed earlier, he knew he had to get it right. Not only to show up Jesus, but to impress Michonne.

After teaching and exhibiting the fundamental actions, Jesus moved on to the next part of the class."Ok so now we are going to practice with our sparring partners." He walked to the front of the class to turn on some African drum music. "Remember, easy does it. It's just fun and we don't want any accidents."

Michonne turned to Rick as they began the series of moves Jesus had taught them. Neither said anything to the other, just their bodies in perfect harmony along with the beat of the drum. As one would kick, the other would dodge and vice versa. Their twists and turns all in rhythm. There was a quality of satisfaction and tranquility between the two of them, because while they were not laughing and goofing around like some of the other pairs in the class, they still felt connected through their art.

After some time doing it on their own, Jesus had each pair demonstrate to the class. A number of couples went first, displaying their skills, some better than others before it was Rick and Michonne's turn.

When the music began, Rick and Michonne went through their series of moves much to the delight of the class and Jesus himself. There were little errors and the two of them made it seem like they had been practicing the arts for years, let alone, one beginner's class. They went through the motions just as they have been taught, but on their final move Rick decided to show off and do something different. Michonne was to end with a high kick that Rick should have crouched down to avoid, but instead, when she brought her leg toward his face, he grabbed it, stopping her momentum. He put his free hand on the small of her back and held her close to his torso. Michonne, basically confined in a standing split in his arms, was rendered immobile.

"Fantastic, Rick! Fantastic!" Jesus exclaimed, as Rick continued to hold Michonne in her place. That smug smile creeping onto his features again, as Michonne struggled to be released from his grasp.

"This is one way you would take down your opponent! A move that I didn't even get to teach you yet!" Jesus explained to the class. "So Rick, very easily you would, use your foot to sweep Michonne's other leg from under her, dropping her to the floor."

Rick readily displayed such and soon he was on top of Michonne, her leg still in his arm, now draped over his shoulder as he hovered over her. Michonne did not meet Rick's piercing gaze, refusing to have another mishap like that in the yoga studio, but he did not make it any easier when he pushed against her finally releasing her leg and allowing her to get it up.

"Very, very good, Rick and Michonne." Jesus said, as the rest of the class applauded their demonstration.

Michonne rolled her eyes at Rick's toothy grin as they walked back to the outer circle. _This asshole._ He had a face that she wanted to smack and at the same time kiss. It was confusing especially since the latter choice was winning.

"You alright?" Rick smiled when they returned to their spots. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm fine." Michonne answered. "But next time I won't be caught off guard."

Rick chuckled and moved behind Michonne, bending down to whisper in her ear, "And maybe next time I won't go so easy."

The huskiness in his voice sent chills down her smile. She should have let him in her room last night, but decided to mess around and play hard to get. She supposed now that she was done playing games. Michonne closed the space between the two of them firmly resting her ass against the bulge in his shorts. "I'm not scared of you Rick Grimes."

Jesus called the next pair to the center of the circle. Michonne smirked when she felt Rick press back against her, but the feeling was short lived when he quickly separated his body from hers as Jessie and Eugene made their way to the middle for their turn to show of what they had learned.

Though that move was a bit frustrating, she kept quiet and watched the next demonstration at hand.

* * *

The class was over before they knew it and everyone began to disperse toward the locker rooms for showers. Jesus was in great shape, but that didn't mean the rest of the class was. Not in the slightest.

As the room began to clear, Michonne pulled Rick to the side before he could leave.

"I'd like to continue where we left off yesterday." Michonne admitted, pushing the feeling she had earlier about Rick and his reaction out of her mind. "Lunch?"

Rick nodded, "Lunch sounds good."

He leaned forward to leave a peck on Michonne's cheek but that's when he saw Jessie looking. Her expression was unreadable, until she offered a small smile his way. It did not feel right for him to kiss Michonne in front of her, even in a way so innocent. Not without talking to her first, which he planned to do... eventually. He waved back at her, prompting Michonne to turn around just in time to see Jessie's ponytail switch behind her as the door closed behind her.

Michonne, took a deep breath. "I'll meet you after showers, then?"

"Yeah." Rick smiled, turning to head back to the locker room and Michonne did the same.

* * *

Rick cheerfully whistled to himself as he lathered his body in the locker room shower. He was excited about having lunch and spending some quality time with Michonne. They only had a little over a week left in Morocco. It was amazing what he felt for her already in such a short time despite their rocky start, not to mention how beautiful. She looked damn good in her jumpsuit today. Rick licked his lips at the thought of her body against his again as he proceeded to lather his hair.

Once done rinsing off his body he turned off the shower and collected his towel wrapping it around his waist, making his way back to his locker to finish getting dressed so he could meet up with Michonne.

Rick sat on the bench and started to put his key in his lock when Eugene walked up to him.

"I'd like to offer my thanks to you." He said in that same droning voice of his.

"You don't have to thank me, Eugene. That was all you." Tilting his head to the side, "...And a little Michonne." He fiddled with the key in his locker a bit more.

"Be that as it may, I would not have had the confidence to talk to someone as pretty as Jessie if you were not there." Eugene continued.

Rick viewed the man and recognized his sincerity. "I'm glad I could help you out, Eugene. Keep it up. You're a good guy. Just be less...creepy."

Eugene gestured his thanks once more and headed to the exit.

There was a loud bang on the lockers in the next aisle as Rick continued to wrestle with his locker key trying to get his belongings out. "Dammit." He huffed under his breath. Holding on to the towel at his waist he went to look for an attendant for assistance.

* * *

In the women's locker room, Michonne pulled at the tie that was holding her locs up and let her hair fall down around her face. Class had been fun just as she expected it would be, but the excitement was really revved up for this time after. They had only scratched the surface in the garden and despite their palpable sexual attraction, there was another layer with him that she had just begun to see glimpses of. A completely different vision he has been painting for her since their first encounter. Arrogant without the narcissism. His confidence was attractive, yet she could tell he was not without humility.

Jessie walked past the aisle she sat in. Quickly sending Michonne a tight smile and wave. she headed to the door before she had a time to respond. It was a little brazen offering Jessie up to Eugene. She knew that she liked Rick, but she saw her opening, as petty as it may be.

Not trying to waste another thought on it, she pulled her gym bag from the locker and shut it, ready for her lunch date.

* * *

The locker room was quickly clearing out as Rick walked through looking for assistance for his bum locker. _Does no one work here?_ Annoyed, he headed toward the rear of the facilities where a sauna was located when he came upon a storage room, whose door was being held ajar by a gray storage tote. The light was on prompting Rick to walk inside to see if he could get assistance with his locker situation.

"Hello?" He called out. No one answered so he roamed inside. "Hello?"

Just then, the tote that was holding the door open was unexpectedly inside, as a result the door slamming in its wake.

"Shit." Rick turned around to test the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. "Shit!"

"Rick?"

Clutching his towel tighter on his waist, Rick turned around to see Jesus appear from around one of the storage shelves.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was..." He began, turning back to try the door again, "I was trying to find someone to help me open my damn locker. Saw the light on and then..."

"You moved the tote?" Jesus asked coming to check the door for himself.

"No. I didn't move the damn tote. I called out and no one answered. I walked inside and the fuc-, the damn thing must've been too light."

"Rick, it's full of escrima fighting sticks, its not moving by itself."

Rick kicked at the tote, and it was indeed heavy enough to hold the door open, meaning someone must have pushed it on purpose. "Do you have a key?"

"It locks from the outside." Jesus informed, moving away from the door as Rick began to bang against it.

"No one will hear us back here." Jesus sighed, pulling out his cellphone. "And the cell service sucks."

"You gotta be shittin' me." Rick continued to bang on the door with his right hand. His left hand holding up his towel, the only thing veiling his naked body underneath, as Jesus continued to move around the storage room for cell service.

* * *

Michonne leaned against the wall as she waited outside the locker room for Rick. With each passing moment, someone left the locker room, but Rick was no where to be found.

 _He is worst than a woman._ Michonne thought to herself. _Probably getting those curls just right._ She mused _. I guess I can't be too mad._

After about 20 minutes of waiting outside of the locker room Michonne thought about checking the dining room, since they did not exactly confirm a place to meet up. Just as she was about to leave, Negan walked out of the men's locker room.

"Negan?" She called after him, as he walked in the opposite direction.

"Oh, Hey Michonne. Didn't see you there. How's it going?" he asked, walking back toward her.

"Fine." She responded. "You didn't make it to the class today."

"Yeah, long night. By the time the class began the doors were closed, so I just spent my time in the sauna and pool." Negan answered. Scratching his beard he continued with his next train of thought, "Listen, I'm sorry for showing up at your room like that. It was uncalled for."

Michonne nodded, appreciative of his apology. There was a silence between them as they both digested the awkwardness, before Michonne finally asked, "Is there a lot of people left in the locker room?"

"No. Its clear, I was the last one out of there, so... You waiting on anyone?"

"I was, he must have already left."

"Rick?"

"Yeah."

"I figured. I saw him earlier." Negan stood straighter. "Well I'm going to be going now." he informed. "Maybe we can catch up some time later, I'd still like that conversation you promised."

"Ok." Michonne said, saying her goodbyes she went in the opposite direction to look for Rick in the dining room.

* * *

Patrons filled the dining room, as the lunch hour was in full swing. Rick unfortunately was no where to be found.

Michonne left to drop off her bag in her room, before knocking on Rick's door to see if he was there. Her heart sank a bit when there was no answer. Her disappointment beginning to borderline worry.

She checked the dining room once more before returning to see the entire locker men's locker room was dark, and seemingly cleared out.

 _Whatever. There has to be a logical explanation for him not meeting up._ Michonne's mind flashed to the moment earlier in class. _Or he just stood you up._

She headed back to her room.

* * *

Rick felt a kick at his leg, jarring him awake. He had fallen asleep leaning against the room wall. Opening his eyes he quickly remembered he was still stuck in a room naked with Jesus, as absurd as it sounded. "Is someone coming?" he asked, fixing the towel on his waist. It had loosened in his sleep.

"Yeah." Jesus replied timidly. "I got service, someone is on their way."

Rick rose from his spot on the floor and walked to where Jesus was standing. "Finally." Rick stretched his arms out and released a tired yawn.

Jesus moved to the opposite wall creating space between himself and Rick. He tied his long hair into the man bun Rick was accustomed to seeing him in. "Rick, I have to tell you something..."

"Yeah, what's that?" He said, fidgeting with his towel.

"I don't know how that crate was moved, and I am picking up what you are putting down, but I have a boyfriend."

Rick faced Jesus with a muddled expression, "What?"

"What?" Jesus repeats."I said I have a BOYfriend."

Rick eyes him curiously. "Okay..."

"It's not like you're the first man who has hit on me at these events but...and lord knows you are attractive, but..."

Now completely baffled, Rick placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse me, but what are you talkin' about... hit on you?"

"Back at the party, in class today, the mysterious way the tote just so happened to _be pushed_ , locking you in here with me." Jesus used air quotes around the words _be pushed,_ only to cause Rick to erupt in a small fit of laughter.

"I assure you Jesus," he said through laughs, "I was not hitting on you. In fact I thought you were putting moves on my..."

 _MICHONNE._

That was the first time since getting stuck in here that he thought of his lunch date with Michonne.

"Rick?"

"How long have we been in here?" He asked Jesus.

"It's going on five hours."

"Five hours?!" Rick exclaimed. How the hell could five whole hours pass?

Jesus sighed, "Well I did tell you this room does have crap cell service."

Rick places his hand on the back of his neck, feeling a certain pain arise. _Yeah, no shit._

* * *

Despite all signs pointing to her being stood up by Rick, Michonne left her room to head to the dining room for dinner. She paused for a moment in front of Rick's door, contemplating on whether or not she should knock, ultimately deciding against it.

When she reached the dining room, she naturally looked around to see if he was there, but of course, he wasn't.

 _No big deal._

Forgetting Rick for the time being, Michonne tracked to the buffet line to make her a plate. The appetizing scent of the Harira soup lifted her spirits. Finding an empty table she settled in to enjoy her meal alone.

Midway through dinner, Michonne's meal was interrupted. Negan was towering over her, a plate and drink in hand. "May I?" He asked.

Michonne granted him permission with a simple nod.

* * *

 _"Jesus?"_ A voice called from outside the storage room.

"Aaron, were in here."

Excitedly, Rick moved toward the exit when he heard the key in the door. Opening, there stood a tall man with curly brown hair, staring disbelieving at his half naked physique.

"It's not what you think." Jesus informed him quickly.

"I'm sure it's not." The man answered incredulously.

Rick gave his gratitude to Aaron and quickly made his way back toward his locker for his clothes. He needed to get to Michonne as soon as possible. Hopefully her laughing at his misfortune would be the worst of it. Rick reached the aisle where his locker was located, suddenly recalling why he was in the storage room in the first place. Rick let out a loud sigh of frustration.

"I need someone to open this fucking locker." He yelled out to Jesus and Aaron.

* * *

Aaron and Jesus both helped Rick retrieve his items from his locker. After waiting for him to get dressed, they all left, leaving the locker room behind as well as the entire ordeal. Rick offered his gratitude once more for their assistance as they departed their separate ways. All Rick could think about was Michonne and another missed opportunity. He had no idea how pissed she would be thinking he stood her up, but it would easily be explained away when he told her the story. Before he stopped at her room, he would visit the buffet seeing as how he missed lunch. He was starving.

He had barely entered the dining area he saw Michonne sitting at the table engaged in a rather animated and jovial conversation with none other than Negan. Rick's brows began to furrow as he watched Michonne enthusiastically laugh at something he said. _What the fuck? I'd gone missing for half a day and here she is chumming it up with this asshole._ Rick had pretty much forgotten about Negan when he was not at the class earlier despite seeing his name on the sign up sheet. Something did not feel right. Rick was about to confront the two until he saw Michonne reach over and give Negan a prolonged hug, causing him to stop in his tracks. He watched as Negan held her tightly, his hand rubbing up and down her back. His skin grew hotter.

"Rick?"

It was Jessie again, just coming for dinner as well.

"Are you about to eat?"

Rick kept his eyes on Michonne and Negan. "I was but suddenly lost my appetite." He informed.

Jessie's eyes twinkled as she held his arm to pull his attention to her. "I was disappointed I wasn't your partner in class earlier. Wanna go get a drink or something to make up for it?"

Rick looked back at Michonne and Negan who have now ended their hug. It hurt him just as much as it pissed him off.

Finally acknowledging the woman next to him, he answered. "Yeah."

* * *

 **A/N: FIX IT JESUS!**


End file.
